Laughing Since I Fell
by Betsy86
Summary: A Story of Boy Meets Girl. Jess/OC. Continuing oneshot series about Jess and Lydia, from my fic 'An End has a Start', and how they met.
1. Along Came Lydia

**Okay, so basically this a continuing series of oneshots about Jess and Lydia, from my 'An End has a Start' fic, all told from Jess' point of view. Rory won't be in these, she maybe mentioned, but she won't make an appearance. This is basically backstory. I hope you guy like it.**

**I own the Lydia. That is all!  
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Chapter One- Along Came Lydia**

You roll over and see the blonde in your bed.

Nicole. Or Nicola. You can't quite recall.

She was an easy lay. The latest in a long line.

But, at _that_ moment, you didn't see her blonde hair or brown eyes.

No, the hair darkened and her eyes turned blue, as they had done before. As they always do.

A year since the open house, when everything fell apart, and every girl since has been compared to Ro-You need to snap out of this.

Quickly you get out of bed and pull on sweat pants and a t-shirt. You leave the room and her in your bed. You need coffee.

"Oh sorry."

You run straight into a short redhead, on her way to the kitchen, wearing one of Mathew's t-shirts, (a faded navy one, with Snoopy and the words 'Chicks Love Nerds' on it). You hate that shirt. On her, it's not so bad.

"I didn't know anyone was in." She tells you as she looks through the cupboards. "Do you guys have any tea?"

"Uh, no." You shake your head. You're amused by this girl. None of Mathew's one night stands have ever been this talkative. Or forward.

"I'll just have some orange juice." She pulls open the fridge and pours herself a glass. "You want one Jess?"

Your head snaps up from the cup of coffee you're pouring. "How'd you know my name?" Mathew really isn't the type of guy to talk about his roommates on a date.

She smiles at you as she brushes past and heads back into the living room.

Intrigued, you follow her and watches as she settles on the couch and begins channel flipping. She lands on some teen drama and places the remote on the arm of the chair.

Sitting beside her you ask how she knew your name again.

Taking a sip of juice, she smiles at you over her glass. "California." She tells you, as she rakes her hand through her hair.

California. You lived there with your father for a few months at the end of high school. But, you didn't meet anybody. At all.

"Stanford? The bookstore?" She ventures again when you don't respond. "You don't remember me?"

Then it clicks. "Lydia."

She's Mathew's best friend. You met her when you went to California the previous year. For your father's wedding. Mathew had convinced you to take copies of your newly published book to try and get it in a few bookstores there. Lydia had convinced the manger of the Stanford campus bookstore were she worked to stock it. But you'd paid little attention to her. More focused on returning east, and presenting the book to a certain blue eyed brunette, as per your new step sister's request. Demand, really, you recall.

"What are you doing here?" You drink your coffee. It's not hot, but it'll do the job.

"I just graduated. And I was supposed to stick around in California a while longer before moving here, so my apartment isn't ready. Math said I could crash here. That's okay, right?" She tucks her long hair behind her ear revealing two silver studs in her lobe, and a small hoop in the helix.

"He pays rent too." You shrug turning your attention to the TV. "What are you watching?"

"The OC. It's complete trash. But old school trash. I love it. Reminds me of high school."

"You went to a fancy private school?" Just like- No one. You push her out of your head once again.

"Yeah. I went to the same high school as Mathew."

You look at her in surprise "Mathew went to private school?"

She smiles, showing a full set of straight, white teeth. "You guys really don't talk a lot do you?"

"Not really." You smile back at her.

"Uh," She points over your shoulder, towards your bedroom. You notice her nails are painted a bright purple and she has one silver ring on her right hand ring finger. "You've got company."

You turn and see Nic- Damn it. What was her name? She's fully dressed and nervously hovering at the bedroom door. You jump off the sofa and head to her. "You're leaving?"

"Work." She nods towards Lydia, who has turned her attention back to the TV. "Roommate?"

"Friend of my roommate." You shake your head. "She's just crashing here." You see her visibly relax.

"Okay. I had fun Jess. We should do it again sometime." She smiles and reaches up and presses her lips to yours. You pull away before she has a chance to deepen it.

"Maybe. We'll see." Non committal. You know you'll never see her again. You see her eyes soften slightly and then harden. She knows it now too.

"Bye Jess." She lifts her bag to her shoulder and heads out the front door. You turn and head back to the sofa. You sit down, head against the back of the sofa, your eyes closed.

"She was cute." You hear the grin in Lydia's voice. "What was her name?"

"Nicola." You tell her, and then visibly wince. "Or Nicole. I think."

"Damn!" She laughs. "You're one of those guys."

"What guys?" You ask, sitting up to look at her.

"The kind that owns a red corvette. Love them and leave them fast. Not that I'm offended. I mean Mathew's my best friend. As we speak, he's probably sneaking out of some poor girl's bed. And I guess I parked my own car sideways for a while in college." She smiles at you.

"Okay." You have no idea what's she talking about. You're just relieved she's not about to call you out on your somewhat crappy treatment of the fairer sex.

She stands up and stretches. "I'm starving. And you guys have no food. I'm heading out for breakfast. Wanna join me?" She heads to Mathew's room and pauses at the door.

"Sure." You stand up and face her.

"Great. Your treat, right? We'll pretend I'm Nic and that you're the kinda of guy who buys a girl breakfast the morning after!" She winks and then closes the door.

You stand rooted to the spot for a few minutes, staring at the closed door.

No, you didn't pay much attention to her in California, but you think you might have to now. You don't think you'd have the energy to ignore her. Or the will not to.

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**Be Kind - Review! I really wanna know what you think of this. I've been really nervous about posting this. :)**


	2. Renagade Without a Cause

**Thanks for the reviews. I have a few of these oneshots pre-written, hence the speedy update. :)**

**I do not own the Gilmore Girls.**

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Chapter Two- Renagade Without a Cause

"I'm bored." Lydia comes from the kitchen and sits beside you on the sofa. "It's eight ten on a Friday night. I shouldn't be bored. I'm young, free and single."

She's been here a week, helping out in Truncheon, trying to find a teaching gig.

Math. She teaches Math, and you still find her fascinating.

"Well, go out then." You hear Mathew from behind you, editing at the table.

"By myself? Do you guys have dates tonight?"

"I do." Chris answers her, not looking away from the history documentary on the TV. He's dressed already just waiting on the guy picking him up in twenty minutes.

"Great." You hear her mutter, and then she pokes you in the thigh with her bare foot. You glance down from your book, 'Moby Dick', again, and see her toenails are painted a pale orange. You look up at her and raise your eyebrows in question.

"You have a date?"

"Nope."

"And you're dateless too?" She calls over her shoulder to Mathew.

"Yeah."

"What? Did you two run out of girls in the city? Waiting on a new shipment coming in?"

"I had a date." You hear Mathew closes the laptop he was working on. "But she cancelled at the last minute. Something about her roommate. We're going out tomorrow."

"Oh." She sighs, rubbing her neck. She focuses her attention on you again. "You get cancelled on too?"

"No." You smirk, not looking up from the book. "Don't really do dates."

"So you just pick up random blondes at bars?"

You look up and lock eyes with her. You notice her eyes narrow and her lips purse slightly. She's not one to crumble under scrutiny. "They don't have to be blonde." You tell her in an undertone, your eyes never leaving hers.

Her face cracks and she rolls her eyes. "Jeez, over-confident much?"

You try not to smirk. You shrug and fight for your lips to stay still.

"We could go to a bar?" She smiles, her eyes twinkling.

You focus on your book once more. But find that you can only read the same sentence over and over again. _'Now, the grand distinction drawn between officer and man at sea, is this—the first lives aft, the last forward.' _You can't look up. You know you will have to say yes if you do.

"We could go to Carr's?" Mathew suggests.

"No." You veto the idea immediately. You hate the place, and get the feeling that she would love it.

"What's Carr's?"

"A dive." You mutter, as Mathew, helpfully, supplies, "It's a karaoke bar."

"I love karaoke!" She says in delight. Not quite a squeal, but not far off. You feel her eyes on you and you groan under the weight of them.

You still can't look at her. "Then you two go. I'm perfectly happy staying in with Ishmael."

She sighs and looks back to Math. "We're going out. Shower and I'll pick an outfit and then shower after. Chop chop." She claps her hands twice and stands. "Don't you think you're getting out of this either, mister." She points her index finger at you, and then uses it to lower your book. "You will have fun tonight, even if I have to force it out of you."

She turns on her heel and enters Mathew's room and closes the door behind her.

*

"Come on. It'll be fun Jess!"

She's getting ready, standing in front of you, hair piled on top of her head, a short red tank top exposing her pale skin and the dusting of dark freckles across her shoulders and chest, and a make up brush in her hand.

"No."

"I won't even make you sing."

"No."

"I'll buy you all your drinks and get you really drunk."

"How drunk?" You ask, a smirk playing on your lips.

"Ridiculously drunk." She beams.

"No."

You watch as her smile falls, and her eyebrows knit together, as she tries to form another plan of attack.

"You know, she does this thing," Mathew sits beside you, "and she points out all the hot girls who look easy."

She smiles again. Wide. And her hazel eyes flash a silent thank you to Mathew. "Oh, I do. I do do that!"

You shrug once again, and pick up you book.

"So you want to sit in and read?"

"Yes." You sigh. By George, I think she's got it.

"That's lame. Make him go." She points her brush at Mathew before heading back into the bedroom.

"She's fun when she's drunk. Less chatty." Mathew begins to make a case for her.

You raise an eyebrow. Drinking normally makes people more talkative. Not less.

"Fine." He rolls his eyes, "She's loud, and she sings. A lot. But she is fun. And will be offended if you don't go. Believe me, it's far easier this way."

"She sings?" You see Mathew nod his head, "Jeez." You throw your head back. Wannabe popstars are not your thing.

"She's really good though. Fantastic even."

"Really?"

"Yeah. She's made grown men cry. And dance. Just put on a clean shirt, fix your hair and we'll go, have a few drinks and make her sing the most embarrassing songs we can think off."

"Fine." You concede and put your book down. "But if this night sucks, I'm blaming you." You head to your room, and ten minutes later when she does squeal in delight, you can't help but smile.

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Suddenly you remember why you hate this place. Cheap girls. Cheap drinks. Cheap thrills. You are acutely aware that you, Mathew and Chris never did buy that bar on Cedar Avenue, and you instantly regret it. Even if it was called 'Cedar Bar Redux' it would be better than this place.

"Grab that table." She points to one in the middle of the floor. "I'll get the drinks in."

You watch as she heads to the bar, her five inch heels, in which she is still a good two inches shorter than you, and her tight jeans catching the attention of every male in the place. You shake your head and follow Mathew to the table and sit down. "It's gonna be pink, right?" You ask, watching her flip her hair behind shoulder as she orders.

"What?"

"The drink?" You focus your attention back to Mathew, who is eying up a brunette to his left, and not paying you any attention. He snaps his head back, when the tall guy, with the shaved head and tattooed neck with the brunette glares at him.

"What about the drink?"

"She's gonna get a pink one, isn't she."

"Not necessarily. She buys people drinks based on their personality. Or something." He shrugs, glancing back at the brunette.

You glance back at the redhead, and see her weaving through the tables carrying a tray of cocktails.

"Here." She sets a glass in front of Mathew. "Sloe comfortable screw." He grins and takes a sip. She sets a martini glass in front of you.

"It's pink." You glance at Mathew who smirks at you.

She sits down opposite you and smiles. "A cosmopolitan. For the boy from New York. Like the 'Sex and the City' girls."

"What's yours?" You point to her drink.

"A mojitio."

You notice Mathew narrow his eyes, and glance between the two of you. "Don't you hate mojitios?" He asks her.

"No." She lifts the glass and takes a sip. Her eyes close and she sticks out her tongue. "Eww. Yes. I always think I'm gonna like them." She swaps her drink for yours.

You say nothing but raise your eyebrows.

"What?"

"Nothing. I just thought I got the drink because there was a story and reason for your choice." You say, not knowing why you're pushing the issue. You didn't actually want to drink it. It looked like something a Barbie threw up.

"Well," She sighs and closes her eyes to think. She opens them quickly, a bright smile gracing her face, "You like Hemingway, and Hemingway liked mojitios."

You smile and take a drink. It's not bad.

"Do you like it?" She asks, her brow knitted and her bottom lip pulled in under her teeth.

"Yeah." You smile at her and her face relaxes.

"I'm singing later." She grins and Mathew rolls his eyes are her apparent predictability.

"What are you singing?" You're genuinely curious. She has yet to display any preference in musical taste in the week she's been here. Humming along with the top forty on the radio doesn't count.

She shrugs one shoulder and takes a sip of her drink. "Dunno. I let the bartender pick."

"Why?"

"It's a game then. I like the element of surprise."

"What if you don't know the song?"

Mathew looks at you and rolls his eyes, "She always knows the song."

"And if I don't, it's karaoke. The words are up there."

"Right."

You can't fathom why anyone would willingly put themselves through this pain, but she seems to be in her element and you find yourself fighting a smile. You take another drink to hide it, but Mathew's checking out the brunette one table over again, and Lydia's singing quietly along with the two girls on stage and neither of them would have noticed anyway.

"And next up, Lydia Murphy."

"Oh that's me!" She gulps back the last of her drink, and stands up."Wish me luck?" She asks, placing her hand your shoulder as she passes. She quickly walks to the stage, once again captivating the male audience as she goes.

"Lydia's gonna be singing two songs in a row. Songs chosen by our very own Justin at the bar!" The compare tells the audience as she climbs the steps to the stage. She strides the few steps to him and takes the mic of him just as the music starts.

"_It's a little bit funny this feeling inside; I'm not one of those who can easily hide."_

And you're mesmerised. Mathew was right. She's incredible. You can't seem to take your eyes off her. She stands perfectly still the whole song, her eyes above the crowd, her voice washing over you, and you're aware of nothing around you.

"_I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind that I put down in words, how wonderful life is while you're in the world."_

She finishes the song and lowers her eyes. She worries her lower lip with her teeth but then breaks into a grin when the crowd erupts. You glance around, and realise from their reaction they had all been as enthralled as you had been.

The crowd settles as she starts to sing her second song. You recognise it from your childhood. Styx. Your mother listened to them and this was a favourite of hers. She sang it around the apartment, but always out of tune. It meant that she had found 'the one'. But your mom had found many 'ones' and this song didn't being the happiest of memories to mind.

But, this girl before you was creating new memories out of the song, and you can't help but smile.

As the beat kicks in, she does to, taking the audience with her. You look around and see people dancing and singing along with her. She had won them over with her voice, and now her personality has decided it. This girl was a keeper, and they were about to crown her Queen.

_"The jig is up, the news is out they finally found me. The renegade who had it made retrieved for a bounty. Never more to go astray, this'll be the end today of the wanted man, the wanted man"_

You'll probably never admit it to her, but she was right. You'd had fun.

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	3. Little Miss Sunshine State

**Thank you to those who reviewed. I love writing this backstory. I am working on the new chapter of 'An end has a start' but it's taking a while.  


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Chapter Three - Little Miss Sunshine State**

"So, are they all getting married or something?"

You hand her a cup of tea and sit beside her. She's watching the same show from her first day here.

"No, it's a cotillion."

"A what?"

"A Debutante Ball." She rolls her eyes, " Young ladies begin presented to society."

"Like cattle at a market?" You smirk and she swats your arm.

"Hey! I came out!"

"And I thought Chris was the only gay one!" You smirk.

She scoffs but then her smirk falls and she bites on her lower lip. "I really didn't want to do it. I fancied myself a poster girl for post modernity."

"Why did you?"

"My grandma made me. She was chairwoman of the event forever, so it was only expected for her only granddaughter to be there. I hated every minute of it. Your dad's supposed to present you. Mine had very bad timing and died the year before."

"I'm sorry." You look over at her. She stares into her tea, and shrugs one shoulder before continuing.

"My boyfriend's dad stepped up. But it wasn't the same. Oh! And my grandma wrote my announcement without telling me. 'Lydia Caitlin Murphy, daughter of the late Connor and Elizabeth Murphy, presented by Daniel Taylor. Lydia hopes to attend Stanford University, like her parents, and follow in her father's footsteps by becoming a surgeon!"

"That's bad?"

"Really bad. I can't watch ER without gagging at the bloody scenes."

"Oh." You nod and glance back at the screen. "Your mom's called Elizabeth?" She nods and you smirk. "Snap. I gotta Lizzie of my own."

"Really?" She smiles, genuinely amused by the fact your mothers share a name. It's probably all they've got in common. "My mom was Libby though. She hated being called Lizzie. And Elizabeth. Said it conjured up too much'Pride and Prejudice' imagery. Lizzie Bennett was her least favourite of the Bennett sisters. Bet you can't guess which one was her favourite."

"You were named after Lydia Bennett? Your mom really didn't have high hopes for you!"

"You've read 'Pride and Prejudice'?" She sounds shocked so you lean over and whisper to her.

"I've read all of Jane Austin."

She pulls back, a grin threatening to spilt her face. "And here I thought Chris was the only gay one."

You laugh. "Touché."

"So, am I the first girl you've met that's been presented to society?"

"No." You shake your head, and think back to your first few weeks in the sticks. You can recall a white puffball dress, a demin jacket and cheesebuger.

"Oh." She sounds dissapointed. "Didn't think there would have been too many Debutantes in New York social circles."

"There wasn't. Conneticut."

"You lived in Conneticut? And met a Deb?"

"Yeah." You nod slowly.

"And you don't want to talk about it?" She's preceptive, you give her that.

"No."

"Okay. New topic. Who would you rather sleep with, Marissa or Summer?"She points to the TV screen.

"Is either one of them the MILF?" You smirk.

"Eww!" She hits your shoulder. "No. That would be either Kirsten or Julie. So which MILF would you...ILF?"

"Dude, are you ever coming to work?" Mathew comes in, carrying a stack of papers. "We're slammed."

"It's my day off, dude."

"Well, again, I say, we're slammed. We're really backed up on the 'zine."

You sigh, and rub the back of your neck. You had been looking forward to your day off. Looking forward to hanging out with Lydia. She was easy to talk to and, you find yourself thinking of that certain blue eyed Deb less when Lydia is around.

She's the 'healthier' verison of the girls you bring home.

"Go." She takes your empty coffee cup from you. "I'm a big girl I can watch 'The OC' unsupervised. And 'Laguna Beach: The real OC' is about to start. You lose a peice of your soul everything you watch it. It's too late for me, but save yourself." She smiles.

"Fine. But you owe me Mitchell."

"Whatever. Just get down there." He heads back to the door and you move to follow him. You pause before you close the door behind you and look back at her.

"Hey, Murphy?"

She throws you a look over her shoulder, "Hmm?"

"The redhead. I'd ILF the redhead." You smirk, and she breaks into a bright smile.

"Well red is better. Richard Gere said so."

"What?" Her references are almost always lost on you.

"Pretty Woman'." She frowns. "You've never seen... okay, that's it. We're watching it tonight. It's Thursday, so you weren't going out, right?"

"No." You were, but somehow, this seems more appealing.

"Good. I'll organise it all. Get dinner and snacks and it'll be awesome!" She claps her hands in delight.

"Sounds good. I'll see you later." You hear Mathew call you from the bottom of the stairs, so you give her a small smile and close the door.

You laugh, as you descend the stairs. You hadn't even lied. Watching the chick flick did sound good. And you have no idea what it means.

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	4. Lydia Murphy's Day Off

**Thank you for the reviews. Seriously I love them!**

**This one is short and sweet. Enjoy!**

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**Chapter Three – Lydia Murphy's Day Off**

You exit your room, shoelaces untied and head to the bathroom. The door is closed.

"Who's in there?" You ask. The door is only closed if the room is occupied; due to the lock that broke four days after you moved in.

"Lydia said she was taking a shower." Mathew tells you from his seat in front of the TV where he is playing a video game with Chris. "Why?"

"I've an interview for the 'zine in," you check your watch, " twenty minutes and I need to brush my teeth."

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose.

"Who takes a shower in the middle of the afternoon?"

And why did you have that garlic chicken for lunch?

"She slept late. But go in. She's not that big on privacy." He tells you. You know he's right. He had had a forty minute conversation with her two days previously. All of which took place in the bathroom.

You knock the door and push the door open slightly.

You hear her singing.

"_You know you're a twisty little girl,  
You know you twist so fine.  
Come on and twist a little closer, now,  
And let me know that you're mine._

_Well, shake it up, baby, now, (shake it up, baby)  
Twist and shout (twist and shout).  
Cmon, cmon, cmon, cmon, baby, now, (come on baby)  
Come on and work it on out."_

"Lydia?"

"Jess?" She calls out from behind the shower curtain, "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I just need to brush my teeth."

"Oh okay."

You pick up your toothbrush from the window sill and glance back at the shower. "Nice song." You comment before putting the brush in your mouth.

"Everyone sings in the shower!" She retorts.

You spit and straighten up. "Not everyone."

She sticks her head around the shower curtain, her hair full of soap. "You don't sing in the shower?" She asks, lips pursed, eyes narrowed.

"Nope." You grin, knowing you do, and did, The Ramones, three days ago, when you knew the apartment was empty.

"Oh." Her eyebrows lift and her mouth becomes a perfect 'O'. "Okay." She shrugs and retreats back behind the curtain. You rinse your toothbrush and toss it back on the sill beside the half empty toothpaste tube.

"Later, Lyds!"

She replies in song.

"_Twenty-twenty-twenty four hours to go, I wanna be sedated.  
Nothin' to do and no where to go-o-oh, I wanna be sedated.  
Just get me to the airport, put me on a plane.  
Hurry hurry hurry before I go insane.  
I can't control my fingers, I can't control my brain.  
Oh no no no no no"_

Damn. Clearly the apartment wasn't as empty as you thought it had been.

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	5. The Lydia Murphy Picture Show

**This is the last of the pre-typed chapters I have. So it might be a bit longer between updates.****

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Chapter Five - The Lydia Murphy Picture Show**

You put down your book.

Your mind is restless and not even Hemingway can calm it.

You've had ideas and inspiration has hit in the last few days.

A new book? Something slightly autobiographical.

Correction. Completely autobiographical, just a few key name changes.

You started a few days ago, unsure if it was even a good idea. You thought an old favourite would help push it, her, your subject out of your head. But you'd forgotten, Hemingway only has lovely things to say about her.

You hear Lydia in Mathew's room. "Oh my God! No way!"

She rushes into the living room, newspaper in her hand, red hair curly and loose about her face, and stands before you. "Guess what?"

"What?"

"The Boyd Theatre is showing 'How to Steal a Million!"

"So?" You smirk at her excitement.

"So? It's only my favourite Audrey movie! We have to go!" She points her index finger at you and smiles.

You stand up and take the paper from her, and glance across the page. "I don't have to do anything." You tell her without looking up.

"Jess!" She whines. "Math and Chris are in New York. You are my only friend left in Philly. You have to come. I can't go by myself."

"No." You tell her and head to the kitchen. She follows you and watches, propped up against the door jam, as you make a pot of coffee. You automatically flick the kettle on to boil water for her tea.

"I'll pay." She offers and you remain silent as you place a teabag in her mug. It's bright blue with the words 'Happiness is a cup of tea & a new magazine' on.

"I'll watch any movie you want tomorrow night." Tomorrow. Thursday, a regular movie night since she'd been staying there. Just over a month, starting with 'Pretty Woman'. "Even 'Almost Famous'!" She bargains. She had vetoed the movie every time you suggested it.

You pour your coffee and fill her mug with boiling water before you turn back to her.

"Please, Jess. If you care about me at all you'll do this for me."

And suddenly you're seventeen again, and you're being asked to get along with someone's mother. "What makes you think I care about you?" It worked then, why not now?

She seems taken aback, her arms dropping to her side and her mouth slightly open. Then her mouth snaps closed, her eyes harden and she moves her hands to her hips. This conversation isn't going to follow the same path it did six years previous. No stammering, no flustered answers. Just a girl who knows what she wants.

"You made me tea." She picks up the mug and takes a sip. "Plus I've seen the way you look at me. You don't just care, you like me. Yes, you pretend to find me annoying, but you realise how boring your life would be without me in it! And you will do this for me."

You pick up your coffee and head back to the living room. You notice your forgotten novel on the sofa. Maybe Hepburn can do what Hemingway failed.

"Okay."

"Okay? Really?" She smiles and you nod once.

"But, we are watching 'Almost Famous' tomorrow."

"Fine! Whatever! I mean Billy Crudup's pretty hot!" She walks towards you and kisses your cheek before turning on her heel and heading back to Mathew's room. "We're leaving in an hour and a half. Be ready!" she calls over her shoulder.

You wonder how she does it. Maybe's she's right. You do care. A little too much.

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	6. Breakfast at Truncheon

**A well wasted afternoon in work! Enjoy!

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Chapter Six - Breakfast at Truncheon**

When you wake, she's gone.

You rub your eyes in the harsh morning sun and sit up. Your steady procession of women has dwindled in the last month and a half.

You know it's because of the girl, no woman, you can hear singing a Kiss song in the kitchen across the hall.

You pull on a pair of dark grey sweats and head towards the kitchen, for your morning coffee, and Lydia's usual interrogation about the night before.

"I, wanna rock and roll all night, and party every day." She sings, as she closed the oven door. You smile to yourself as you watch her dance to the fridge, lifting out a carton of milk. She turns and stops when she sees you from your spot at the door.

"Hey." She smiles, as she places the milk on the kitchen table. "Jenni left about thirty minutes ago. She had a family emergency." She grinned as she places bacon under the grill.

"You talked to her?"

"Yeah. She seemed...nice."

You groan and run your hand through your hair.

"Here." She places a cup of coffee in front of you which you gratefully accept. "Can you make pancakes?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Well, here." She hands you a bowl of batter. "Make pancakes. I'm working on waffles."

"Why are you mak-"

"Don't ask questions, just do it." She points her index finger at you, before pouring batter into the waffle maker. You pour some of your own batter into the preheated pan, and glance about the kitchen. There are muffins on the table, and a fresh pot of coffee and tea, as well as a jug of orange juice.

"Hey, Jess? Can I ask you something?"

You look her in the eye, and don't answer her verbally but give her a small shrug of affirmation.

"Why do you it?"

"Do what?"

"The one night stand thing. I'm not judging or anything. I just wanna know. You don't strike me as the man whore type. You know, Mathew." She smiles.

"No." You shake your head.

"Thought so. So it's the same reason as me? A girl."

You raise one eyebrow and she rolls her eyes, swatting your arm. "Well, obviously mine was a boy. But same general premise. Heartbreak, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I'm here to tell you it gets easier."

"It does?"

"Sure." She grins, nodding her head once for emphasis.

You laugh, shaking your head. "I can't picture you as a one night stand kind of girl."

"I'm not really. But, as I said, heartbreak. Does funny things to a person."

"What happened?" You regret asking. She'll inevitable ask you what happened, and you know you're not ready to talk. You can't even bring yourself to write about it.

"My boyfriend, Seth, died. He asked me to be his girlfriend when we were eight. We were inseparable. And three days before our high school graduation, he died. Blood clot in his lung. I was...devastated. I didn't leave the house all summer. We were supposed to spend a few weeks in Venice Beach, then head to Europe. I stayed in my room the whole time. And then I started college, and I had to leave my room. So I coped with the grief by, well doing what you're doing. I slept with a professor and everything. I was a mess. But eventually, after about a year, I realised that it wasn't helping. And I slowly started to move on. Been single ever since though. A few dates here and there, but nothing major. I'd never been single, it was nice."

She lets out a breath and then smiles at you. "Sorry, I tend to ramble. But, I promise, your heart will mend. God, that was cheesy." She screws her face up in disgust. She stands and checks the bacon.

You flip your last pancake into the dish. "Done."

"Breakfast!" She calls into the hall, to Mathew and Chris.

"Do I smell bacon?" Mathew wanders into the kitchen a few minutes later, closely followed by Chris.

"And frittata." Lydia smiles, taking the dish out of the oven.

"What's the occasion?" Mathew pours himself coffee.

"A thank you."

"For what?" You ask, taking a bite of bacon.

"For putting up with me. My apartment's ready. I'm leaving today."

"Leaving?" You sound shocked.

"Yeah," She smiles, adding milk to her tea. "I can't crash here forever. My grandma did buy me that apartment to live in."

"It's been great having you, Lyds, but it'll be good to get my bed back." Mathew laughs as he cut the frittata into slices.

"I forgot how good your waffles were!" Chris tells her.

"Thank you." She smiles as she sits down beside you, waving off more compliments from your roommates.

"You're awfully quiet." She nudges your arm.

"Just thinking."

"About...?" She asks.

About how'll you miss her. How you've gotten used to her coffee in the morning. Her singing. Her insipid TV shows she always has on.

"How quiet it'll be without you singing all the time." You smirk and she rolls her eyes. "So, how far away is your new place?"

"Twenty minute walk. You'll see me all the time."

"That's what I'm worried about!" You grin.

"Oh shut up and have a muffin." She holds out the plate to you.

"These aren't store bought?" You had assumed they were.

"Nope, made them myself."

"What time did you get up at?"

She squints at the clock on the wall and then sighs. "Five thirty."

"To make breakfast?"

"Yeah." She nods, her bottom lip caught in her teeth.

You shake your head and take a bite of the muffin. It's good. Really good. "You're crazy."

"I wanted to say thanks. And breakfast is the only thing I'm good at." She shrugs one shoulder and pops a blueberry into her mouth. "Now, eat your breakfast."

You cut into the waffle sitting in front of you and watch her from the corner of your eye, as she stands up and moves to the oven and lifting out a tray of scones.

You think that she may be good at breakfast, but it's definitely not the only thing she's good at.

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	7. After The Tequila Sunset

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Chapter Seven - After the Tequila Sunset**

You sit down with your book. It's been two days since Lydia moved out, and you kind of already miss her. A lot.

Mathew and Chris are arguing about what to order for dinner, but you drown them out, your thoughts swimming with the redhead. And the in she dances.

"Boys." She smiles, landing beside Mathew on the couch. "Who's up for a little bit of drinking?" She grins, holding up a new bottle of tequila.

"We're just about to order dinner, Lyds." Mathew tells her, not looking up from the takeout menu he's reading.

"But eating is cheating! And I thought we could get to know each other. A little 'I have never'? What'd you say?"

"That I know you already."

"Me too." Chris tells her.

"Well, I don't know Jess." She reasons. "Please, Math." She glances at the calender on the side table, Mathew and Chris following her gaze, and in doing so, Mathew springs into action.

"Oh, right. 'I have never'. Great. Chris get the shot glasses?" Chris retreats to the kitchen and Mathew stands, and takes your book from you. "Just, do this for her." He steps over the coffee table and sits on the stool, facing Lydia, who has moved to the middle of the couch, her legs crossed under her.

Chris returns, setting fout shot glasses on the table and sits in the chair opposite you, to Lydia's left.

"Okay." Lydia smiles, filling each glass with the golden liquid. "I'll go first, and then we'll go clockwise, so Chris, you are next." She smiles and then glances to you. "I've never had a book published."

You roll your eyes. "Cheap shot."

"Hey! Don't talk about José that way. He's a very dear friend." She laughs and you raise your shot glass, downing the shot. She smiles brightly and fills your glass again. "Okay, Chris. You're up."

"I have never been surfing."

You lift your glass, and down your second shot, while Lydia and Mathew also take a drink. "You surf?" You lift an eyebrow in her direction.

"Not well." She grimaces, filling up the three empty glasses.

"My turn." Mathew grins. "I have never gotten a tattoo."

Lydia rolls her eyes, and lifts her glass at the same time you do. When she set her glass down, she quirks her eyebrows, a silent 'You show me yours, I'll show you mine'. You sigh and raise your right arm, pushing back the sleeve of your t-shirt reveal a black outline of a star on your tricep.

You got it in California, the first time around. When you were eighteen, newly flunked out of high school. You'd met Ivy and Johnny on the boardwalk, when Ivy had stolen your book. After chasing her on a borrowed skateboard, they had befriended you. Sort of.

They brought you to a party that night on the beach. You drank a lot. Though all you remember is the red blaze of the bonfire and the pain in your head and arm the next day, when you discovered your new body-art.

You had found your book that Ivy had taken, shoved in the mailbox later that afternoon, and wedged inbetween the pages you found a note.

'Hope your hollow star is everything you wanted it to be. Ivy.'

You are brought out of you memory by Lydia's voice. "I like it. Sexy." She winks, and refills the two glasses.

"What about yours?"

"Not in a place I want to expose. Yet." She shrugs. "Maybe later."

"Okay." You nod, and then scratch your head, trying to think of your own confession. "I have never...travelled by plane."

All three of your drinking companions downed their shots. "Never?" Lydia asks.

"Nope." You shake your head. "The idea terrifies me. It's not natural. I prefer driving."

"Okay. My turn. I have never seen a 'Die Hard' movie."

"What?" You, Mathew and Chris all turn to look at her.

"I take it you three haven't either?" She points to your still full glasses. You all down the shots before turning to her again.

"How have you never saw 'Die Hard'?" You ask, filling the three glasses.

"Dunno." She shrugs. "Never appealed to me. I can, however, recited every word of 'Pretty Woman'."

"That's really not the same thing, Lyds." Mathew laughs.

"Whatever, Chris, you're up."

And so you continued to drink, though you notice that both Mathew and Chris' confessions are seemingly aimed at Lydia, in an attempt to get her as drunk as possible.

"I have never sang karaoke."

Followed by "I have never complained my shoes hurt."

And "I have never danced on a table."

Or "I have never slept with a professor." (To which, she throws her shoe at Mathew, calling him a jerk.)

On quite a few occasions you drink at the same time as her.

"I have never read Jane Austin."

"I have never smoked." (You give her a look and she shrugs it off with "I'm an occasional stress smoker, no big deal.")

"This isn't fair, there isn't much I haven't done." She complains, after drinking a shot that told the room that she had been skinny dipping before. "Okay, me again. I have never been to the Big Apple."

You take the shot, and internally wince at the memory of another girl who had referred to your home city as the Big Apple.

"I have never kissed a girl." Chris rubs his eyes, sleep and alcohol taking over.

"You kiss me all the time." Lydia points out.

"French kissed, then." He clarifies, and Lydia winks, before downing her drink. You laugh. There really isn't much she hasn't done.

"Mathew you're up." You nod in his direction, filling the glasses again.

"I have never stolen anything."

Both you and Lydia drink at the same time.

"A lipstick." She smiles.

"A gnome." You grin, and then watch as she pour you another drink. You try to think of your next confession. You don't know what possesses you. Maybe it's the excessive amount of alcohol you've drank. Or your hazy memories, resurfaced due to confessions, that involve the Big Apple, or having never finished a cup of coffee, or never being in a car accident. "I have never had sex with someone I love."

She quickly knock back her drink and then looks at you. "Never because you've never been in love, or never because..what?" She turns to Mathew, sitting facing her.

"Do you count?"

"Do I count what?"

"I love you, but do you count?" He asks.

"Oh, I dunno. We have to ask the 'I have never-er'. Jess, if you love someone, like Math loves me, brother-sister love, does that count? Or does it have to be crazy in love I wanna have a million babies with you kinda love."

"Latter." You tell her. "You've slept together?" You ask.

"Once." She shakes her head, "And I don't count." She tells Mathew.

"Thank God." He sighs, pushing away his glass. "I can't drink anymore. And I think Sleeping Beauty here needs to go to bed." He nods at Chris, who has fallen asleep in his chair. "Help me with him Jess?"

"Sure." You stand, feeling slightly shaky on your feet, and pull you friend into a standing position. After guiding Chris to his room, Mathew then calls it a night too.

"Night, Lyds!" He calls.

"Oh, goodnight hun!"

"Look after her." He tells you, before closing his door.

You return to the living room and sit down beside Lydia on the couch.

"So, was she pretty?"

"Huh?"

"The girl you never slept with. Was she pretty?"

You think back to bright blue eyes, soft brown hair and pink lips. "Yeah." You nod.

"And you loved her." It wasn't a question, but you nod regardless.

"The girl from the open house, right?"

You blink and look up at her. "How did you know...?"

"Mathew told me. Don't be mad. I'm kinda like his real life Dear Diary." She smiles. "And I figured that the girl who left you heartbroken and one night stand prone had to be the same girl from the open house."

"Yeah," You sigh. "I just think I should be over her by now."

"Well, it's only been a year. And a bit. But that's fine. It took me that long to get over Seth."

You shake your head. "No. This has been going on since I was eighteen."

"Eighteen?"

"Yeah."

"Well, amm..Oh, closure. I bet you didn't have any closure. I had closure with Seth. He died, and was never coming back. But tell about this girl and how it ended."

"We broke up at eighteen, when I left without saying goodbye."

"Aha!" She snaps her fingers. "No closure! Go on."

"I came back a year later and told her I loved her and then left again."

"I knew it! Still no closure. What happened next?"

"I changed my life and it wasn't good enough." You tell her quietly.

"And there's your closure!" She swats your shoulder. "Seriously. You've tried. That's all you can do. So move on." She smiles.

"That easy?"

"Yeah, it is if you say it is. And you know what? I predict that you will meet a girl, and she's gonna be fantastic, and you're gonna fall madly in love with her and have the best sex of your life."

"Oh, really?" You laugh.

"Yeah." She nods. "I've had a lot of sex, and I'm very wise. You should listen to me."She reaches down and picks up the two still full shot glasses and hands you one. "Here. To falling in love and the amazing sex it brings!"

"To amazing sex." You repeat and clink you glass with hers, before drinking the shot. You put the glasses back on the table and notice the bottle's empty. "We're out."

"That's probably good. I'm seeing two of you." She smiles, leaning towards you, leaning her head on your shoulder. Your head swims, dizzy with the mix of tequila and the smell of her perfume. You barely hear her when she mumbles into your shoulder.

"I guess I should tell you why I got you so drunk right?"

She sit up and looks you in the eye and you nod mutely. She places her hands on your shoulders, and pushes herself off the couch. Standing in front of you, she hooks her thumb under the waist band of her jeans. "You showed me yours, right?"

"Your tattoo?"

She nods, giving you a small smile and then pushes the waistband of her jeans down. You spot two lines, and squinting to focus your vision you realise what they are. "Dates?"

"Yeah, the June Fourth one is the date that Seth died. And yesterday's date is the date my parents died. It was their seventh anniversary. And my first away from home. Without Jamie."

"Your brother?"

"Yeah." She sits back down, and tucks her legs in under her. "He's in Europe and I called him, and he said he was fine. So I lied and said I was fine too, but I wasn't. I'm not. I still miss them. It's silly."

"It's not silly." You pull her into a hug, kissing the top of her head.

"Thank you." She sighs. "And that girl's an idiot if she didn't think you were enough. You're one of the good guys Jess. Hell, I'm drunk enough to say you're one of the best."

"And too drunk to go home."

"Very true." She nods, scratching her chin. "I can stay here on the couch." She yawns, stretching out.

"Come on." You pull her to her feet. "You can bunk in with me."

"Really?"

"Yeah." You laugh. "That couch is not comfortable."

"Thanks." She wraps her arms around your arm and put her head on your shoulder. "Hey, you don't snore do you?"

"No." You roll your eyes.

"Hog the covers?"

"No!"

"Got a t-shirt I can wear?"

You throw her a grey Pixies shirt and turn around while she changes. "You have been in the room while I've showered, you know."

"Wasn't looking at you though."

"I'm that hideous?" You hear her laugh. "You can turn around, prude."

When you do, she's already in your shirt and bed, under the covers. Her hair has been taken out of the elastic it was in, and sitting about her shoulders. "You getting in?"

"Oh, yeah." You shake your head to clear your thoughts, and then toe off your shoes and take off your jeans, and get in beside her. She already lying down, on her side, with her back to you. You reach over to turn the bedside lamp off. When you lie back down, you feel her toss, turning to face you.

"Goodnight Jess." She reaches forward and kisses your cheek. "I just know you're gonna meet someone fantastic. I know it."

"Night." You mumble, placing your hand over your eyes, squeezing your temples with your thumb and middle finger. Because you know you already have meet someone 'fantastic'.

And she's drunk and asleep in your bed.

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**I know, I used the tattoo Milo Ventimiglia actually has, but meh! What can you do! I do think it is quite sexy. :) **

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	8. A Lowe Down Dirty Shame

**Thank you to those who reviewed. **

**This is to try and shake out my writers block so I can write my final assignment. It's not going well and it's on the West Wing, hence all the Rob Lowe love. I don't own Rob Lowe, or the Gilmore Girls. Or anything, really. Lydia's mine, and I kinda love her.**

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**Chapter Eight - A Lowe Down Dirty Shame**

You feel like an idiot. Standing in front of her door, fist raised, poised to knock. But she had never said that your Thursday night movie tradition would continue once she had moved out. Though, you think, can it be called a tradition after two months?

She left before you had woke this morning, leaving you a post-it on your forehead. 'Sorry for getting plastered and having to crash in your bed. Lyds x'.

Not that you had minded the getting plastered, or her crashing in your bed. She had fallen asleep pretty quickly, one hand tucked under the pillow, the other balled up in the hem of the shirt she slept in. It was folded up, and sat on your dresser, and when you lifted it, it smelt of her perfume. You had stood like an idiot this morning, and now here you were, repeating your actions.

Bite the bullet, Mariano. She's just a friend, and you're just hanging out.

You knock.

She pulls open the door and a grins breaks her fave when she sees you. She starts to laugh and holds out her phone in her palm. You see your own contact details.

"Great minds." She smiles. "I was just about to call you. Can't have Thursday Movie Night without you. Get in here. I've a pizza ordered."

"You know your elevators broke, right?" You try to sound casual. Not like you're happy (thrilled?) that she was planning on inviting you over tonight.

"Yeah." She joins you on the couch and hands you a beer. "They say it should be fixed by next weekend. But I kinda like being forced to use the stairs. You're supposed to exercise, you know."

"That's what I hear." You smirk. "So what's the movie for tonight?"

She smiles and sits up on her knees. "It's a good one."

"Do I have to guess?"

"No, but you will like it." She reaches behind her and pulls a DVD out of a bag beside the couch. "I rented 'Die Hard'." She laughs, waving the box. "You all were so shocked I'd never seen it, so I figured we'd give it a try." She shrugs. "It better be good."

"You won't be disappointed. Hey can I ask you something? About last night?"

"Did I snore? Or sing? Or kick you?"

"No. You sing in your sleep?"

"Sometimes." She nods. "So, what about last night?"

"You and Mathew?" You had been thinking about it all day. She had slept with your best friend. And you didn't know how you felt about it.

"Me and Math, what?"

"You slept together?" You question.

She took it as a statement. "What? Last night? How drunk was I?"

"No. Last night you said you had slept together."

"Oh, okay. Yeah, we have. Once. When I was nineteen. Freshman year. Sleeping with Mathew was my wakeup call that my lifestyle wasn't exactly healthy."

"Okay." You nod and give her a small smile.

"It didn't mean anything. I mean, to me, sex can be just sex. You know? Yes, when you're in love it's incredible, I said that last night, right? But if not, it's just sex."

"I get that." You smile, not fully understanding why she's explaining herself to you.

"Good. I decided that I needed to be by myself after that. I'd been someones girlfriend for so long I'd forgotten how to be Lydia."

"Mathew was the last person you slept with?"

"No." She shook her head, standing up to put the DVD in the player. "I dated one guy after that, but it didn't work out. He was in love with someone else. A French model. Male model called Jean Luc. They are in a very committed relationship now. They live in Paris."

"You slept with a gay guy?" You smirk.

"Hey!" She laughs, "I didn't know he was gay. Now can we watch the movie?"

"Sure."

"Good." She presses play and sinks back into the couch.

"This sucks." She complains forty minutes later, her legs draped over yours. "I'm changing it."

"You can't change it!" You tell her as she walks to the TV and switches the DVD for a new one.

"Yes, I can. My apartment, my rules." She smiles, crashing back down beside you. "Now. A true classic. 'Oxford Blues' with the very very lovely Rob Lowe."

"A Lowe fan?"

"God yes. I never missed an episode of 'The West Wing'. Even after he left. But thankfully, he is now in 'Brothers and Sisters'.

"Freak. I didn't think anyone actually was a Rob Lowe fan. And if they were, they kept it quiet."

"Well, I am. And I'm not ashamed!" She grins, pressing play again. "And you will love this."

"Whatever, but I'm picking the next three movies."

"Well, I'm vetoing any 'Die Hard' movies." She raises an eyebrow and places her legs back over yours.

"Your apartment, your rules." You smirk.

"You're a quick study, Mariano, I like that. Now shhh." She holds her index finger to her lips and then points to the screen.

You smile and run your hand over her knee. You could get very used to her rules, and you think that should scare you more than it does.

Because it doesn't scare you at all.

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	9. Twenty Four Candles

**Thank you to all those who reviewed. You are wonderful. I hope you enjoy this!

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**Chapter Nine - Twenty Four Candles.**

"So, what are we doing on Friday night?" Lydia puts down her magazine and looks over at Mathew who is typing at his desk.

"What's Friday?" You ask and she turns to look at you from her spot perched at the edge of your desk.

"Math's birthday. Seriously, do you two talk? At all? Ever?" She smiles and the looks back at Mathew. "So, do you have any thoughts on what to do for your birthday?"

"Dinner? Just the four of us." Mathew asks, without looking up from his screen.

"Boring!" Lydia laughs.

"I'm twenty four. I'm trying to be grown up."

"Well, Jess and I are twenty two. We wanna party."

You look up and grin. "I'm twenty three."

"You can't be twenty three." She turns back to face you. "We graduated high school the same year."

"I didn't graduate."

"Not the point. You were my year. So if you are twenty three already, your birthday would have to be sometime after the end of June.

"July 7th."

"And I've been here since mid June. I missed your birthday." She turns back to Mathew. "How could you let me miss his birthday?"

Mathew shrugs. "He hates birthdays."

"But I love them. I love buying presents, and then seeing the person's face when they open it. You robbed me off that."

"Sorry." You stand and walk in front of her. "I will have another birthday next year." You tell her, rubbing her arm.

"Yeah, but no one even wished you a happy birthday. That makes me sad."

You chuckle and pull her into a hug. "It's just another day Lyds. Birthdays weren't a big deal growing up." They weren't. Your mom generally forgot them, and if she did remember you never got a gift.

"So you just sat at home on your birthday?"

"No." You shake your head.

"You hooked up?"

"No." You laugh. "My birthday was a Thursday, so I was at yours."

"Really? What did we watch?"

"'Dancer in the Dark'."

"Oh my... that film is so sad. I cried on you. On your birthday."

"Hey, I like Bjork."

"Still, that shouldn't be how you spend your birthday."

"I had fun." You assure her, squeezing her shoulder gently.

"Okay."

"Hey Lyds. Milk is having an 80s night Friday." Mathew calls from his desk.

"Thanks." She smiles over at him and then lets out a sigh, looking up at you. You notice how green her eyes are.

"I'm gonna make some tea. You want anything?"

She startles you. You shake your head and move to let her past. You know if she hadn't spoken, you were about ten seconds from kissing her.

You watch her head upstairs to the apartment as soon as the door clicks closed Mathew turns to look at you. "What's going on with you two?"

"What are you talking about?" You fake an air of nonchalance, because you know he can't read your mind.

"You just seem close. Nothing I should know about?"

"We're friends." You tell him. And it's the truth. You are friends, but you don't exactly if that's all you want.

"Friends?" He questions, and you wonder if he can read your mind.

"Yeah, friends. Why?"

"No reason. It's just that..."

"Just what?"

"Nothing." He shakes his head and gives you small smile. "I just don't want her getting hurt."

"Me either."

"You know, you haven't brought home a girl since she moved out. Two months ago."

"So?"

He scoffs and shakes his head. "Don't get defensive. I'm just stating a fact. I've been waiting for this to happen."

"For what to happen?"

"For you to go back to being you."

You frown. You know Mathew rarely makes sense, but this is ridiculous. "Back to being me?"

"Yeah, the 'you' you were before...before the open house."

"Oh." That shocks you. You know that things have been different since Lydia had arrived. You just didn't know that it was noticeable.

"And I didn't know if it was just a natural progression out of grieving, or if it had anything to do with, you know." He points upstairs, indicating the red head. You know that she probably is everything to do with your moving on, but you're not about to tell Mathew that. Not when there wasn't any hope of her reciprocating the feelings.

"Nope, just coincidental timing thing." You tell him.

"Oh. Okay." He nods once as Lydia comes back down stairs.

"I just remembered, I have purple leopard print legwarmers!" She announced, jumping back onto your desk.

"Why would you need those?" You ask, grinning.

"For Friday, 80s night. We could dress you up as Adam Ant? I bet you would look good guy-liner."

"No." You shake your head. "No way."

"It's cool now. Johnny Depp does it. And Jared Leto."

"No." You laugh.

She shrugs. "Fine, but you'll stick out like a sore thumb."

"That's fine with me."

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"Okay, so I guess I stuck out like a sore thumb." She pushes open her apartment door and lets you in.

She had stuck out like a sore thumb, wearing, not only her purple leg warmers, but a black net skirt and lace top. She looked like early Madonna's younger red headed sister. But she pulled the look off. You thought she looked incredible. Not everyone agreed.

"Sorry I got us kicked out of the club. And that you got punched."

"Not your fault. That idiot, however." The guy had been an idiot. Lydia had mistakenly thought that an 80s night would require an 80s outfit. She was wrong, and was the only one who had shown up in one. But that didn't mean some jerk had to hassle her about it. You lost it after he asked if she were like a virgin. You told him to back off and he punched you square in the face.

"It's fine. Not the first time I've been in a fight or gotten kicked out of a bar." Just the first in a very long time you think to yourself as she flips on the light.

"Oh God." Her hand flies to her mouth when she turn to face you. "It's starting to bruise. You're gonna have such a shiner. I'll get ice. And beer. Sit." She instructs you and the heads towards the kitchen.

She returns and hands you a beer, before kicking off her heels and sitting down beside you, her feet tucked under her. "This will be cold." She tells you and presses a make shift ice pack, made from a red tea towel covering a bag of frozen peas to your face.

"Ow." You wince, backing away slightly.

"Sorry." She tells you, but doesn't move the ice pack away. "So, when was the last time you got in a bar fight?"

"Few months before you got here. Hit on girl. Her boyfriend didn't take it to well."

"They never do." She laughs and you both fall into an easy silence.

After ten minutes you can no longer feel your face and lift your hand to move hers away. "I'm numb." You smile over at her.

"Good." She throws the towel on the coffee table. "And now for the final healing touch." She smiles and leans in, pressing her lips to your cheek. "A kiss to make it better."

You turn your head, and suddenly your face to impossibly close face with her. She lets out an audible sigh and her breath tickles you skin. You notice again how green her eyes look. "Hi." You smile at her.

"Hi." She gives you the smallest hint of a smile. You shift in your seat and your hand lands on her knee. She glances down at it, and then back up to you.

"Jess..."

"I'm gonna kiss you now." You tell her.

"Wha-" But she never finishes, your lips pressed against hers. You're aware of how still is she, and wonder if this was a mistake, but then suddenly she is kissing you back.

And, it's incredible. Her hands find their way to your hair and she drags her nails across your scalp. She shifts and moves to straddle you, your fingers rubbing gentle circles on her thigh. You move one hand to her waist, while the other inches under her skirt and she suddenly pulls away, cupping your face with her hands.

"We can't do this." She tells you, her breathing erratic.

"What?" You breathe out.

"Here. We can't do this here." She smiles standing up. "Not on the couch. We're not sixteen." She tells you holding out her hand to you.

You take her hand and follow her to her bedroom, but pull her back to face you before she opens the door.

"What?" She looks up at you, biting down on her lower lip.

"You sure?" You ask, and you hope to the gods that she is.

She rolls her eyes, smiling and then stands on her tip toes to kiss you again, her fingers clinging to your shoulders. She pulls back and rubs your cheek with her thumb. "I'm not gonna be one of-"

"No." You cut her off. You know what she meant. One of the many, one of your one night stands.

"Then I'm sure." She smiles and pushes open her bedroom door, leading you in.

* * *

"I guess I have to take you out on a date, right?" You grin, pressing a kiss to her neck.

"Yeah, I mean if you want this to happen again, I'd say a date is a necessity." She laughs.

"So, I have to take you on a date now, 'cause I was kinda hoping that we could..." You smirk at her causing her roll her eyes.

"You're a pig."

"I'm a man." You clarify, "And you are incredibly hot."

She blushes slightly and leans in to kiss you. "How long have you liked me?" She whispers and you roll over to lie on your back.

"Honestly? I'm not sure. I became aware of how much I like you on Tuesday when you tried to talk me into guy-liner. But I think it's been coming on since you got here." You glance over at her and she's smiling at you like you're crazy. "So what about you?" You ask her, running your hand down her leg.

"I don't like you." She shrugs. "I'm just here for the sex." She laughs as you grab her by the waist, pulling her on top of you.

"Stanford." She says quietly. "I liked you when you came to Stanford with your book. But you clearly weren't interested."

"I was screwed up about someone else."

"Open house girl." She nods. "You know, I can't keep calling her that. I'm gonna call her Holly. Okay?"

"Sure. Holly." You think it's kind of appropriate.

"But you're not screwed up anymore?"

"No."

"You know," she grins up at you, "I reconsidering this whole 'date-before-we-next-have –sex' thing."

"Oh really?" You smirk, pushing her onto her back and you hover over her, your weight resting on your elbow.

"Yeah." She leans up to kiss you. "I think it's for the best."

"Definitely." You agree, kissing down her neck, smirking as you hear her giggle, and then moan at your ministrations.

* * *

**They're together! Remember to review and let me know what you think!**


	10. Secrets and the City

**Thank you to everyone who has read and/or reviewed. I do not, despite many wishes, own the Gilmore Girls.**

**Enjoy!  
**

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* * *

Chapter Ten- Secrets and the City**

You feel her breath on your neck, quickly followed by her lips. Once, twice, three times in quick succession. Your arm finds her waist an you pull her closer.

"Morning." She lifts lifts her head slightly and places a light kiss on your lips. "Man, we did last long with 'The Plan'." Her head falls on to your shoulder.

You grin. 'The Plan' had been to keep this, you and her, a secret. 'Not for long' she had said. 'Just a little while?'

You had agreed, her argument was reasonable. Mathew. 'He ruins everything. There'll be questions and looks and I don't wanna deal yet. I just wanna...be.'

It had been a week since his birthday. A week of secret glances, stolen kisses and 'I'm just hanging at Lyds tonight' with a failure to return home.

However, last night had been different. You'd been to dinner and an unexpected downpour had lead you back to Truncheon, where a mix of wet clothes and memories of kissing her in the rain and had swept you both up.

"You've crashed here before." You tell her and you feel her smile against your shoulder.

"Not naked." She quips.

You laugh and press a kiss to her head. "I'll get you a shirt." You push yourself out of bed and watch as she rolls over on to your pillow.

"God, this smells good." She sighs and leans up on her elbow.

"What?" You pull on a t-shirt and sweatpants and then throw her the same.

She pulls the t-shirt over her head. "It smells of you." She smiles and untucks her hair from the neck of the shirt. You smirk as she sort of shimmies into the sweatpants as you bedroom door knocks.

"Jess? You up?" Mathew pushes open you door, a cup of coffee in hand. "Good, here." He hands you the cup and then spots Lydia. "Hey Lyds."

"Morning." She waves.

"What are -"

"We were caught in the rainstorm last night." You interrupt. "Here was closer, so she just crashed."

"Right." She nods and gives you a small smile.

"Oh, okay. You want tea?" Mathew asks and she shakes her head.

"No, I should get going."

"Okay. You're coming tonight? Book launch for Victor."

She frowns. "The quiet guy with the hat? Sure I'll be here. I never miss a party."

"Good. Jess we need you downstairs soon as. We've a lot to do."

"Yeah, I'll just grab a quick shower."

"'Kay. Bye Lyds." He turns to leave, closing the door behind him.

"So, wanna join me?" You smirk.

"No." She shakes her head. "I should go. Mind if I borrow some clothes?"

"Take my car." You nod towards the keys on the desk.

"That's not a car. It's rust. I'd be less embarrassed doing the walk of shame." She tells you as she pulls off the sweatpants and puts on a pair of your jeans and turns up the ends of the legs. "I'll bring them back later." She rakes her hand through her hair in an attempt to brush it and then gives you a smile. "See you later."

You reach for her and pull her into a kiss. "Keep the jeans. They look better on you anyway."

"Kay." She sighs.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine. Just tired. I didn't get a lot of sleep last night. I'll see you later." She reaches up and kisses you but pulls away before you can deepen it.

She leaves and you stand rooted, not sure of what just happened.

* * *

"Hey." You turn and find her standing with a beer, a complete contrast to the navy dress she was wearing.

"Hi." You kiss her cheek, "You look like you should be sipping a cocktail in that dress."

"Fancied a beer." She shrugs, glancing around her. "Good turnout. Victor must be pleased."

"He's freaking out. Performance anxiety. His never read for this many people."

"He'll be fine. He's good. I liked the book." She grins as Mathew joins you.

"What book?" He asks.

"Victor's."

"Wanna tell him that?" Mathew nods towards the writer, standing nervously at the side of the room.

"Sure. Lead the way." Lydia smiles.

"Before we go," Mathew grabs her hand, "I should tell you, Victor asked if he could meet you."

"Why?" The word leaves your mouth before you can think.

Her eyes narrow. "Why wouldn't he want to meet me?"

"I didn't mean it like that, I just meant-"

"Save it." She interrupts. "I can make my own way over." She tells Mathew before walking across the room.

"Why would you do that. Victor is worse than you when it comes to girls."

"So. She said she wanted to start dating again."

"When?"

"A few weeks ago. We had dinner. Why do you care if she dates?"

"I don't." You tell him through gritted teeth, shaking your head. "But Victor will only hurt her."

"She's stronger than you give her credit for." Mathew tells you. "And Victor won't hurt her. He knows I'd kill him if he did." He gives you a look you can't quite read and then walks away to meet a tall blonde who walked in.

You glance back over at Lydia, who is laughing at something Victor said. You strain to remember the last time he ever cracked a joke. The guy was French. He was never funny.

You watch as two other guys join them and he slips his arm around her waist. Your feet move without thinking and you quickly reach them.

"Jess!" Victor smiles. "My editor." He tells the two strangers.

You make no response but simply glare at him, causing his smile to fade.

"Jess?" Lydia pulls out of his embrace and clutches your arm.

"Stay the hell away from my girlfriend." You tell Victor.

"Girlfriend? I thought you were sing-"

"She's not."

"Jess, what are you doing?" She whispers up at you.

"This." And you kiss her, wrapping your arm around her waist to pull her closer as her hands find their place around your neck.

"I knew it!" You step away from her when you hear Mathew's voice.

Lydia grabs his arm and then yours and pulls you to the front door before dropping both of you and going outside.

"You knew?" She asks him. "Like you knew, or had a suspicion?"

"Knew. Last night, you weren't exactly stealth. Or quiet."

"Oh God." She whispers, her cheeks red.

"It's fine." He chuckles.

"If you knew, why do that? With Victor?" You ask.

"I know you. I knew you'd get jealous. Or she would refuse and I'd dig for information until you caved and told me. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I just wanted to...I dunno." She shrugs. "It was stupid and we're sorry."

"Fine. How long?"

"A week. Your birthday." She smiles.

"And you're happy? With him?" He jerks his thumb in your direction and you roll your eyes.

"Very." She nods, wrapping her arms around your waist.

"Jess? You know what I said about Victor, and how he knew what I do if he did that thing we talked about? It applies to you too."

"I know." You nod.

Mathew stares at you both for a beat and then heads back inside.

"What applies?" She smiles.

"Nothing." You grin. "So what was with the flirting with Victor."

"I was annoyed at you."

"Why?"

"I wanted to tell Mathew you this morning about us, and you jumped on putting 'The Plan' back on track."

"I thought that was what you wanted."

"I know."

"You didn't say you wanted to tell him."

She nods and smiles. "I know."

You laugh. "You're crazy."

"I know." She kisses you. "And you called me your girlfriend."

"I know." You smile back at her and then kiss her again. "Let's get outta here."

"Sure. Boyfriend." She grins and links her arm though yours. "My place?"

"Yeah."

You haven't been someone's boyfriend since you were eighteen. The concept still seems foreign. But you know, as Lydia slides her hand into yours, quietly singing a Beatles song, that as foreign as the concept seems, the reality's pretty amazing.

* * *

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	11. The Book of Jamie

**Ack, it feels like ages since I've wrote anything for this. Eep. Lots of stuff happening that had me distracted. Working crazy hours. Wimbledon (whoop, go Rafael 3), World Cup (though I hate football, I've really gotten into this year). And oh yeah, I finally graduated from uni! Huzzah! **

**Hope you enjoy this chapter! I don't own the Gilmore Girls. I do own Lydia and Jamie. :)  
**

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* * *

Chapter Eleven- The Book of Jamie**

You pause mid-sentence when you hear Lydia singing.

"In the black of the night 'til the red morning light." She sways into the bedroom, pulling her hair out of its band and letting it fall about her shoulders.

"Is that my shirt?" You ask, pointing at the navy shirt, that barely grazes her thighs.

She bites down on her lip and gives you a small smile. "Yeah, you mind?"

You pull at the end of the shirt, bringing her on to the bed with you. "No." You kiss her, your fingers tracing circles on her exposed leg.

She pulls away, resting her forehead against yours. "Hey hey you're givin' all your cinnamon away." She sings quietly. "I have something for you." She whispers.

"Really?" You smirk and press your lips to hers.

"Not that!" She pulls away and swats your arm. She turns and leans over to pull open her bedside drawers. She pulls out a black box. "Here." She hands it to you.

"What is it?"

"Open it." She smiles.

"No." You look up at her. "I mean, what's it for?"

"Oh." She tucks her hair behind her ear. "A late birthday present."

"Lyds, I told you I didn't want-"

"Fine." She interrupts you. "It's to say thank you for being completely awesome in bed." She laughs. "I saw it and thought of you." She shrugs as you open the box.

"A notebook." You glance at her as you lift the black notebook from the box.

"A moleskine." She clarifies. "Hemingway used one."

You nod. "I know."

"I figured you could used it."

"For?"

"Jess hearts Lydia doodles." She rolls her eyes. "You're a writer. I'm sure you'll find some use for it."

"Okay."

"I don't mean you have to write anything. But in my limited knowledge of literature, I know that your book, your writing, was good."

You rasie an eyebrow at her, but remain quiet.

"It was." She continues. "I can't finish bad books. But if it was a fluke, then the I heart Lydia doodles will do." She grins.

"I've been writing." You tell her, flipping through the pages.

"You have." You can hear her smile, but don't dare look up.

"Yeah. But it's...I don't what it is yet." You tell her, but you know it's gonna be about... New York, Stars Hollow... 'Holly'. You look up at her and give her the smallest hint of a smile. "This is better than loose leaf and napkins."

"Good." She laughs, leaning in to kiss you.

"You still didn't need to get me anything."

"It's a notebook. Hardly breaking the bank." She rolls her eyes, and then glances down at your hand, still on her leg. "So, you really okay with me wearing your shirt." She asks, popping the collar.

"Well, since you've asked..." You grin, unbuttoning the top few buttons and kissing along her jawline, letting your lips find the pulse point on her neck.

Slipping the shirt off her shoulders, her fingers find the hem of your t-shirt. "Off." She whispers, pushing the shirt up. "God, you're a cheap date." She laughs, pushing you back onto the bed. "Maybe next week, I'll buy you a pen set."

* * *

You realise you've never watched anyone sleep before. She wrinkles her nose every so often and she lets out a small sigh. You reach your hand out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, then run your finger along her law line.

Suddenly her eyes shoot open. "Did you hear that too?" She whispers.

You hadn't heard anything, and are about to tell her that when you do hear something. A soft thud.

"There's someone in the apartment!" Her voice is barely above a whisper, but you can hear the panic in it. She reaches down and finds the shirt you had taken from her hours before. "You coming?" She looks back at you and you nod, standing up and pulling on your jeans.

"Here."

You glance down at what she just handed you. "A shoe?"

"I don't own a bat. And look at that heel. It's practically a weapon."

You shake your head and throw the shoe on the bed, walking past her. She grabs hold of your arm and you glance back only to see she's clutching a shoe herself.

"Careful." She whispers and you reach for the light switch. Flipping it on, you spot a tall blonde man and Lydia lets out a scream.

"Oh my god! Jamie!" She runs to him and throws her arms around his neck.

"Why are you screaming? And holding a shoe?"

"I was going to attack you with it." She shrugs, tossing the shoe onto the couch. "What are you doing here? Sneaking into my apartment after midnight? You're supposed to be in Europe."

"Attack me?" He chuckles. "And I came home early. Grandma said she shipped my stuff already so there was no point in going to California to fly back here in a week. You don't mind if I crash, right? Though I see you have company." He nods to you over Lydia's head.

"Hi." You greet him as Lydia turns on her tiptoe.

"Oh, right. Jess this is my brother Jamie. Jamie this is Jess."

"Jess, who wrote the book Jess." You glance up and give him a small nod.

"Yeah, that's him." Lydia beams at you.

"Cool. Your book was amazing." He smiles and then quirks an eyebrow at his sister. "When did the slumber parties start?"

"Oh shove it!" She pushes him. "I'm not fourteen. And you're going to half to crash on the couch. My spare room is currently a walk-in closet. I have no idea where the bed is under all the clothes."

"That does not surprise me." He grins lifting her shoe and settling down on the couch. "Sheets?"

"I'll get them your highness." She mock bows and heads towards her room, giving you a smile as she goes.

"So, you and my sister, huh?" Jamie turns his head to look at you.

"Yeah." You nod and sit in the chair next to the couch.

He looks at you sideways. "How long?"

"Couple of weeks."

"Mathew know?" You nod your head to confirm and he continues. "He give you the speech?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Add me to that as well. I don't want her getting hurt. She's my whole family."

"Jeez, getting threatened by an eighteen year old. And, I have no intentions of hurting Lydia."

"I'm not threatening." He grins. "Consider it a friendly warning."

"What's a friendly warning?" Lydia arrives with a pile of pale blue sheets.

"Oh, that you sing in your sleep." Jamie grins.

"He knows that." Lydia hands you the sheets. "Yet to experience it though. Right?" She asks.

"Right." You laugh.

"Good. Hey, munchkin, you couldn't make me some tea with loads of milk. Kitchen's through there. Tea caddy's on the counter, cup are in the cupboard by the fridge and the milk's in-"

"The fridge?" He cuts her off, heading to the kitchen.

"See? That's why he's going to Yale." She laughs as she starts to make the couch up.

"What's with the tea?"

"Helps me sleep." She throws the pillow down and then curls up on your lap. "He threaten you?" She asks, running her hand through your hair.

"Not in so many words." You smirk.

"He's protective." She nods. "He saw how upset I was after Seth. I don't think he can handle heartbroken Lydia again.

You don't think you could handle it either, but instead of telling her you, you lean forward and give her a gentle kiss.

"One milky tea." Jamie arrives back and hands her the mug.

She stands up and take a sip. "Thanks. We're going to head to bed." You stand up too and your hand lingers at her waist. "We'll talk in the morning?"

"Yeah." He nods, sitting down to take off his boots. "Bathroom?" He asks.

"Down the hall, on your left." She points. "Night." She takes your hand and leads you back to her room.

"Everything okay?" You ask as you pull of your jeans again.

"He's home early for a reason. I hope he's okay."

"Anyone ever tell you that you worry to much?"

"No." She shakes her head. "I'm generally worry free. Too laid back. Drove my grandma nuts. But, this is Jamie. I have to look out for him."

"He'll tell you in the morning. Now bed."

"Yes sir." She mock salutes, setting her tea down and crawling in beside you.

"Hey, Jess? Who's gonna kick my ass if I hurt you?"

"What?"

"Well, Jamie's warned you, and I'm pretty sure so has Math. But who beats on me, if I screw up?"

"Lydia." You roll your eyes.

"No. I mea I don't plan on ever screwing this up, but you should have something. Oh, I know. I'll ask Chris. I mess up, Chris sorts me out for you."

You laugh, kissing the top of her head. "Sweet but unnecessary."

"If you change your mind?"

"I'll let you know." You nod, lying down and pulling her with you, the only thought in your head being that she said she doesn't plan on _ever_ screwing this up. Well, that and the fact that you don't plan to screw it up either.

* * *

**Reviews are all kinds of awesome! ^_^**


	12. Sex, Pi and Videotape

**Thank you for the reviews. They make my life (seriously, I'm THAT boring...)**

**Just a little quick piece. I love lazy Sundays and crosswords. :) Hope you enjoy.**

* * *

**Sex, Pi and Videotape**

"What's a ten letter word for 'dodge'?"

You look over at Lydia, curled up on the other end of the couch, the Sunday paper folded up in her hand, biting down on her pen. "Subterfuge."

"Thank you." She mumbles, filling in her crossword. "Subterfuge. That's a good word."

"I guess." You shrug, turning back to your book.

"What's your favourite word?" She asks, filling in another answer. "Titan."

"Don't have one."

"What?" You look up again and find her staring at you. "You're a writer, you must have a favourite word. Come on I'll tell you my favourite number."

"Pi?" You guess, smirking.

"Yeah." She frowns. "Closely followed by one hundred and forty seven."

"147?"

"Yeah, it was the number of my grandparent's house. The Philadelphia grandparents."

"Philadelphia grandparents?" You ask.

"Yeah." She nods. "My dad grew up in Philly. He was born in Ireland, Kildare, but moved here when he was five. My grandpa was a history professor at Penn."

"I never knew that."

"Well, now you do." She smiles. "I always loved their house. I'll take you to see it one day. And by see, I mean we'll drive past it."

"Great. Can't wait." You grin, running your hand over her knee.

"No distracting me." She swats your hand. "Favourite word? Or number?"

"Nine." You sigh, "And I don't know why, I just always liked the number nine."

"Okay. And word?" She smiles, biting down on her lower lip.

You roll your eyes. "Ambivalence. Or unencumbered."

You can see she's mentally saying the words and she gives you a bright smile. "They're good. I approve."

"What would have happened if you didn't like them?" You laugh.

"I dunno." She shrugs. "I wouldn't have put out or something."

"Like that would happen." You smirk at her before kissing her shoulder. "So you have a favourite word?"

"Teilgeoir."

"Chell-ig-or?" You frown, sounding out the word she just said.

"Yip." She nods.

"That's not a word, Lyds."

"Sure it is."

"Can you use it in Scrabble?"

"Well, no..."

"Not a word." You interrupt, grinning.

"If you'd let me finish." She hits your arm. "It's not an English word. It's Gaelic. Or Irish. My grandpa taught me it."

"What does it mean?"

"Projector." She laughs. "I also like videotape. Retro and nostalgic. Makes me think of being a kid and watching 'Sleeping Beauty'."

"You're so weird." You whisper, kissing her jaw.

"I know." She sighs.

"So, how many decimal places do you know Pi to?" You smirk.

She shakes her head. "I can't tell you."

"Why?"

"I get the feeling, if I tell you that, you'll find me less attractive. In fact, I know you will."

"Not possible." You tell her. And it's true. Her geek qualities are what make Lydia, well, Lydia.

She sighs and looks you straight in the eye. "One hundred."

"You know Pi to 100 places?"

"Yeah." She shrugs, her eyes downcast.

"Prove it."

"Jess..." She protests, shaking her head.

"Come on, I'll give you a hand. 3.14..."

She laughs and then covers her eyes with her hand. "Fine. 3.14159 26535 89793 23846 26433,"

You cut her off, surprising her with a kiss. Her hand moves from her eyes to your cheek, holding you in place.

Pulling back, you smirk at her shallow breaths and still closed eyes. "Twenty five." She breathes out.

"What?"

"That's only twenty five places." She blinks in rapid succession, her breathing steadying. "I have seventy five left to go."

"I believe you know them." You kiss along her jawline.

"It was a turn off, huh?"

"Not it in the slightest." You smirk, capturing her lips again. "Maybe we should take this back to the bedroom?" You mumble against her mouth.

"We only dragged ourselves out of the bedroom thirty minutes ago." She laughs.

"Sunday's are meant to be lazy." You mock pout, and she leans forward and presses a chaste kiss to your lips.

"I wanna finish my crossword. I never finish and I'm determined to do it."

"I'll help." You sigh, shifting in your seat to gain a better view of the paper.

"Thanks, and I swear once we're done we can do seven across."

You glance down and read the clue. "No I in factor?"

"It's an anagram." She tells you, her eyes bright and her smile wide. Glancing down, you search for the solution within the puzzle and smirk when you find it. There, written in her looped scrawl is 'FORNICATION'.

"Well, then," you shoot her a knowing smirk, "I guess I should tell you that five down is 'quire'."

"You can't make up words." She frowns as you take her pen and fill in the solution.

"I didn't make it up. A measure of writing paper is 'quire'. Trust me." You tell her filling in three more solutions.

"Extravagant." She points to seventeen across, and then to twelve down. "Guise."

"And 'wane' means we're done." You smirk as you fill in the last word.

"We are?" She grins, taking the paper off you. "I finished the crossword?"

"Yeah, sure, you finished the crossword." You laugh, shaking your head at her excitement. She turns to face you, dropping the paper to the floor.

"I believe, I promised you seven across?" She bits down on her lip, giving you a soft smile. "I've never been one to break promises." She whispers before kissing you. She moves her lips across your jaw until she finds the pulse point below you ear.

You gasp and "Lydia..." escapes your lips as she kisses the sensitive spot, and you decide that her name may just be your new favourite word.

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**Review? As I said, the make my life... :)**


	13. You've got Yale

**I know, quick update, right? Not like me, at all! But it was slow in work, and I realised, I hadn't dealt with Jamie. Here it is. Enjoy!**

**Thank you for the reviews.**

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen - You've got Yale**

"It's a good room." Lydia calls over her shoulder as she places a lamp beside the bed.

"Lyds, you have to move." You groan over the weight of the mattress you are carrying with Jamie.

"Sorry!" She gives you a sheepish smile and jumps out of the way. Putting the mattress on the base of the bed, you watch as she pulls out new navy sheets.

"Lydia, I can make up my own bed." Jamie frowns.

"I know." She nods, shaking out a pillowcase. "But," she checks her watch, with a dramatic flick of her wrist, "you have a campus tour in ten minutes. You're gonna be late. So, scoot. Jess and I will unpack the car, and I can make your bed up. That way, I'll know it's been done at least once this year."

Jamie rolls her eyes at his sister. "Very funny," he moves to kiss her cheek, "and thanks. You too, man." He smiles at you.

"No problem." You nod towards the door. "Go. Before she has a coronary about you missing something." You grin over at Lydia.

"Whatever." She sighs. "We'll go for something to eat when you get back." She calls after Jamie as he takes off, his bag over his shoulder. "Thanks again for following us in your car. I didn't realise he had so much stuff."

"Well, yeah, a mattress is bigger than expected."

"I wasn't letting him sleep on that. I bet it was filthy." She turns her nose up as she walks out of the room, and back towards the car.

"I don't think he cared." You grins, catching up with her.

"Well, I do." She shivers in disgust. "It's gross." She lifts the last suitcase from the car and you pick up the last box, marked books.

"So, you get him to talk?" You glance sideways at her.

"Sort of." She shrugs. She had been trying for the week and a half Jamie had been staying with her, to get him to talk about why he cut his trip short.

"Anything?" You prompt.

"A girl." She sighs. "They met at the start of his trip when he was in Ireland. Abby, that's the girl, and her friend were about to go travelling too, so they went with Jamie and his friends. Six weeks of travelling and then one day in Prague she announces she was going back home to Dublin and she could never see Jamie again."

"That's him sort of talking? What were expecting? Her social security number, family background?"

"Shut up." She retorts back. "I had to drag that out of him. He's really cut up about it. Which is weird. Jamie was Mathew's little protégé when it came to girls. A different one every week."

"You think he loved her?" You ask as you drop the box on the floor.

"In six weeks? No." She shakes her head, opening a cardboard hanging box. She lifted the clothes in one go and transfered them to the closet. "But," she turns to face you, "I think he was falling."

You're about to tell her that you know what that feels like, starting to fall, to have it taken away, when the front door to the suite opens and shut. Lydia throws you a quick glance and runs to the door, closing it over. "It's the weird guy, Tim." She whispers to you, peeking though a crack in the door. "Okay, he's in his room, lets go." She grabs her purse and then your hand and makes a run for the front door.

"What are we doing?" You pull on her hand to slow her down.

"Getting coffee."

"You don't drink coffee." You laugh.

"I know, but Jamie does, and I thought we could scope out a good spot. Plus there's no point in unpacking his books. He has a system. And I really needed a break."

"How weird is that guy?" You use your thumb to point back at the room.

"Really weird. When you guys were swapping the mattresses over, he asked if I wanted to see his bed snake." She frowns. "How'd he get into Yale? Really?"

You laugh and pull her to you, dropping a kiss on her forehead. "Didn't you have any weird roommates?"

"Bette. She chanted."

"See, that's college, right?"

"I guess." SHe sighs. "Coffee." She points towards a small cart and walk over and order her a tea and a coffee for yourself.

"How is it?" She asks, once you've tasted it.

"Pretty good." You tell her, sitting on a nearby bench.

"I'll tell Jamie." She smiles, sitting beside you. "God, Yale's pretty." She puts her head on shoulder.

"I guess." You nod, trying not to think about the last time you were here. 'No, no, no, no.'

"No!" You realise that 'no' wasn't in your head, and look down at Lydia.

"What?"

"We left the key in the room." She hits her head with her hand.

"Weird Tim." You chuckle.

She nods. "Weird Tim." She confirms with a sigh. "Protect me?"

"Anytime." You grin, kissing her temple.

"Yes!" She exclaims and you give her a small smile. "Now, come on, I've clothes to unpack." She stands up, and walks off before turning back to you. "You coming?"

You nod and standing, tossing your coffee cup in a near by trash can.

Yale, like everything else you encounter with her, now has a, well not a good memory, you think, but a decent one.

"Eww, bed snake!" She shakes her head, and you slip your arm around her shoulders, laughing. Okay, maybe one good memory.

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	14. Teaching Ms Murphy

**Thank you for the reviews. I own Lydia, but very little else! :) Hope you like

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**Chapter Fourteen : Teaching Ms. Murphy**

You knock at on Lydia's door and she pulls it open a few seconds later.

"Thank God!" She pulls you into her apartment.

"What are you wearing?" You ask her, taking in her black skirt, green blouse and heels.

"Do I look like a teacher?" She asks, turning on the spot and you see her hair is pulled back into a knot at the back of her head.

You smirk and tell her she doesn't look like any teacher you had in high school.

"Jess, be serious."

"You look like that red head chick from that show you watch. The one in the 60s."

"_Mad Men_? You think I look like Joan?"

"Sure?" You're not sure if that's the right thing to say. "You know, but shorter, and thinner. And way hotter."

"Stop babbling." She laughs. "I love Joan. So this is really okay?"

"Yeah," You grin, "that skirt's..." You trail off as she turns again, flashing you a smile over her shoulder.

"It's good right?" She winks. "You think I'll get the job?"

"Job?"

"Yeah." She nods. "That's what this is about. I have an interview. Fort William Prep."

You let out a low whistle. "Wow. Fancy prep school. That why you got the glasses on?" You point to the pair she's wearing.

"What?" She reaches up to touch the black frames. "Oh, no. I wear glasses. Thought they matched the outfit."

You squint at her and ask when she started wearing glasses.

"When I was eight." She smiled. "I generally wear my contacts, but I thought looking smart couldn't hurt."

"I like them." You tell, wrapping your arms around her waist and kissing her. Pulling back, you rest your forehead against hers. "But you don't need them to look smart. You're gonna wow them with your knowledge of Pi and Pythagoras and..."

"Polynomials?" She laughs.

"Yeah." You nod. "When's your interview?"

"Tomorrow, noon." She smiles and extracts herself from your arms. "Give me ten minutes and I'll change for meeting the guys."

"Or, you go change into something more comfortable, I'll go pick up food, get us a movie, and then you can go to bed early, like I know you want to."

"You're perfect." She wraps her arms around your neck.

"I try." You kiss her forehead and then push her towards her room. "I'll not be long."

"Wait!" She stops you and pulls open a drawer in her desk. "Here." She hands you a key with a blue bottle opened key-chain attached. "Figures you needed a key. Besides I have one to your place."

You glance up at her. "You do?"

"Never gave it back to Mathew when I left." She smiles, reaching up and lightly hitting your cheek. "Don't make a big deal out of it." She takes a step and then turns to head to her room. "Oh," She calls over her shoulder, "I want Thai food."

"Sure." You nod, heading out.

* * *

"That's good." She hand you back your fork after trying your green curry. She's in a pair of red shorts and an old Ramones shirt. "Why didn't you get me that?"

"I called. You wanted noddles."

"I'm kidding." She laughs and turns are attention back to the screen. "God, he's pretty." She smiles as Jake Gyllenhaal tells Gwyneth Paltrow a math joke. "Thanks for getting me a math movie that isn't _A Beautiful Mind _or _Good Will Hunting_."

"Well, I know Russell Crowe freaks you out and Ben Affleck make you want to throw things at the TV. So it was this or _The Breakfast Club_."

"Because Brian was in the Math Club." She smiles. "Good one."

"Hey, so if you get this job-"

"Don't!" She interrupts you. "Don't put a curse on it."

"I won't." You laugh tell her you were only going to ask if she was going to wear that skirt more.

"Well, yeah, I have to look to professional. Why? Like it?"

"Yeah." You smirk.

"Perv." She mutters, rolling her eyes.

You shrug. "Just appreciating how beautiful my girlfriend is."

"Whatever. That's what all the pervs say." She laughs and you roll your eyes. "I'm stuffed." She sets her plate on the coffee table and then stretches out. "Hey, wanna help me prepare for tomorrow?"

"How?"

She turns the TV off and stands up, taking your hand to pull you up too. "We could do some calculus?" She grins. "A little integration?" Her eyebrows lift suggestively and she places a small kiss on your lips. "Are you a differentiable function? Because I'd like to be tangent to your curves!" She laughs.

"Did you just use a math pick up line?" You smirk.

She nods and smiles up at you. "Did it work?"

"Hell yeah." You bend down to kiss her, your hands smoothing over the skin of her lower back under her shirt, walking her backwards towards her room.

"Hey," She pulls back, slightly breathless, "you think we have too much sex?"

"No." You shake your head.

"Okay." She shrugs. "Just checking." She kisses you again, unbuttoning your shirt, while you move to pull hers off. And it's not too much. It can't be. Not when you can't get enough of her. Her and her lame math euphemisms.

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	15. The School Job

**Thank you for the reviews. I own Lydia, but very little else! :) Hope you like this one.**

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**Chapter Fifteen - The School Job**

A smile spreads across her face as she spots you from your spot across the road, leaning against the wall of an upmarket health centre, where you'd received more than a few dirty looks from the upper class clientele. "What are you doing here?" She asks as she reaches you.

You shrug and stand up straight. "Thought I you might like lunch. Or a beer?" You smile and she laughs, reaching up to pull her hair out of its clip.

"A beer sounds awesome." She smiles, leaning into you.

"Didn't go well?"

"It was fine. I just think I might be too young. The girl, sorry lady, before me looked ancient. Like a proper teacher. Her sweater looked older than me. And the guy after me had elbow patches. I'll never get it. But it looks like an awesome school."

"You'll get it." You smile down at her, reaching for her hand, leading her back to your battered car.

"You don't know that." She sighs as you open her door for you.

"I have a feeling. Get in." She wrinkles her nose at you in disagreement and then climbs in. She fiddles with the radio and the way back to her apartment and finally settles on the station she started with. Sighing, you feel her gaze in you.

"When did you get this car?"

"When I was eighteen. Why?"

"It's falling apart." She picks at a tear in the leather of your chair.

"I love this car." You tell her. "It's a classic."

"Classic or not it's in terrible condition."

"As long as it drives, it works for me." You smirk.

"Okay." She smiles. "I was looking at car I was gonna get if I got this job."

"What was it?"

"Red." She answers, pulling down the mirror behind her sun-visor and running her hand through her hair.

You laugh and you can see the glare she's giving you out of the corner of your eye. "What make of car was it?"

"I dunno." She shrugs as you pull up to her building. "I was gonna ask you to come look at with me. But I guess that's pointless. I'll just change and then we can go." She pulls open the door to her building and sighs before heading up the stairs.

Following her up, you nod at Mrs Valencia who is on her way out, and get to the apartment just as Lydia is kicking off her shoes. "Call Mathew. And Chris." She tosses you her phone. "Tell them we need tp drink."

"We need to drink?" You smirk, closing the door behind you.

"Yes." She nods. "I'll be a minute." She turns and goes to change. Phoning Truncheon, you speak to Chris and tell him to meet you and Lydia at a local bar around four, thinking you could take her for lunch and get some food into her.

When she returns, her skirt traded in for a pair of skinny jeans and her blouse now a grey sweater, she is stepping into a pair of black flats. "They coming?"

"Mathew has a meeting and Chris has a deadline to meet. They'll meet us at four at Molly's Yard. I thought we could get some food there now. I'm starved."

"As long as there's beer." She smiles and picking up her bag, pushes you back towards the door. "Thanks for this. Taking time of work I mean." She kisses your cheek and slips her arm through yours.

"Anytime." You tell her.

* * *

"Maybe I could present a kid's show?" She stops suddenly on the stairs and blinks down at you. She had started on beer with lunch and moved on to cocktails with Chris, and ended up singing Pink Floyd's 'Another Brick in the Wall' on a table before being asked to leave. On the walk home she had tried to come up with alternative careers.

"A kid's show? Like on TV?" You laugh. "Doing what?"

"Teaching math." She scoffs. "Making numbers fun. Like Sesame Street. Without the puppets. Or maybe with puppets. I dunno yet."

"Come on." You step up beside her and wrap your arm around her waist, leading her up the final flight of stairs. Pulling out your key, you open the door and she runs inside.

"I need to pee, but when I get back, we're gonna talk about this TV show." She calls out over her shoulder. Throwing your keys onto her phone table, you notice that her answering machine has one new message. Hitting play, a grin spreads across your face as you listen.

When she comes back, her hair on top of her head, in a pair of red flannel pyjama bottoms and her glasses, she looks at you with one eyebrow raised. "What's with the smile? You think the shows a good idea? I'm gonna call in Magic Math. Or something less lame."

"You don't need a TV show." You tell her. "And when are you free to go see about that red car?"

"What?"

"Listen." You hit play again and the message is relaid once more.

"This is a message for Lydia Murphy. This is headmaster Green at Fort William Preparatory. I'd like to formally offer you the position at the school. If you could call back on Monday morning we can organise a meeting. Congratulations. I look forward to hearing from you."

The machine beeped and you smiled at her, but she just blinked in confusion. "Wow." She rubbed her forehead. "I must be really drunk. I could have sworn that message said I got the job."

"You did."

"But..." She trails off and shakes her head, before looking back up at you. "I got it?"

"Yeah." You laugh, "You got it."

She breaks into a smile and runs toward you, jumping at the last minute. You catch her and she wraps her legs about your waist. "I'm a teacher!" She yells and bursts into a fit of laughter.

Walking to the couch, you set her down and kiss her temple. "Congrats." You whisper in ear and she kisses your cheek in response. "Tea?" You ask and she nods once, before tucking her feet under her.

"Please." She smiles and you head to the kitchen. When you return five minutes later, mug in hand, she's already asleep, her glasses askew on her face. Lifting her, you carry her to bed and remove her glasses. You pull off your jeans and get in beside her. She turns and places her head on your chest.

"Can we buy my car tomorrow?" She whispers, half asleep still.

You tighten your hold on her. "Sure." You reply, feeling that you would do anything tomorrow, as long as it was with her.

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** Review and let me know what you think. **


	16. Snow Night

**Because of all the crummy snow in the UK. God, I hate snow.  


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Chapter Sixteen - Snow Night**

"Jess." You hear your name, somewhere in the darkness, but ignore it. "Jess." You hear again, and slowly you open one eye.

"Lydia?" You squint up at her, blinking a few times to focus on your girlfriend. She smiles down at you, and bends to place a quick kiss on your lips.

"Its snowing." She whispers against your mouth, and you can feel her smiling.

You shake your head and tell her its too early for snow. "S'only October."

"I know grew up in California, but I have seen 'White Christmas'. Its snowing." She laughs, running her hand through your hair. Opening your eyes, you look towards her bedroom window, only to see a white blanket on the sill and still more falling.

"Its snowing." You sit up and she grins.

"Told you. I checked the weather. Freak, unexpected cold front. We get snow!"

You notice for the first time, she is fully dressed, with a bright blue beanie on her head, a matching scarf around her neck, clutching white mittens in her right hand. "What's with the get up?" You ask, pulling on her scarf.

"I thought we could go out?" She asks, biting down on her lip, making her childish request seem all the more childlike.

"Its the middle of the night." You groan, glancing at the clock which read one thirty.

"Please?" She begs, drawing out the word. "Remember California? It never even rained much less snowed. Please?"

"It's cold."

"It's pretty." She counters.

"Fine." You sigh as she whoops in delight, pulling a black hat out from behind her back and pulling it on to your head.

"Thank you!" She kisses you and bounces from the bed. "You have ten minutes. Hurry!" She commands, lifting a pair on navy duck boots, with pink stars on them, and turning to leave.

Swinging your legs out of bed, you pull on yesterday's jeans and a sweater. Locating your boots you shove your feet into before joining her on her snowy escapades.

* * *

"Oh my God. I'm so cold!" She complains, as she reenters her apartment not ten minutes later. You smile as she wraps her arms around herself and hops from one foot to the other in attempts to get warm. Crossing to her, you wrap your arms around her, and run your hands up and down her arms, hoping the friction will heat her a little.

"Go get back in bed." You kiss her temple. "I'll make you tea."

"Angel." She whispers, her teeth chattering. She slowly disentangles herself from you and heads to her bedroom. You head to the kitchen and throw your coat over the back of a dining chair, switching on the kettle. You sit down at the table and pull out your notebook from your coat pocket. You being scribbling as you wait for the water to boil. You write about your last midnight walk in the snow (right after a confession of love) and the one before that (where no declarations had been made, but the night had ended a lot more pleasant).The kettle clicked off, jarring you from your thoughts. Closing over the book, you shove it back in your pocket and forget about it for the rest of the night.

"Hot tea." You announce as you open her door, only to find her huddled under the blankets, already asleep. Setting the mug down, you strip off your jeans and top, and slip in beside her. Turning in her sleep, she gravitates towards your body heat and you wrap your arm about her, whispering goodnight and pressing a kiss into her hair. You think this may be the best night you spent in the snow.

* * *

You wake the next morning when her phone rings. Answering it, you take the the message and then turn to wake her up. "Lyds? The school just called."

"What's wrong? Am I late?" She yawns, slowly blinking up at you.

"Burst pipe." You smile. "No school. Whole place is flooded."

"What?"

"You have a snow day." You tell her and start to laugh as the look of recognition crosses her face.

"I guess there's something good about the snow then." She smiles, sitting up. "Do you have a snow day?" She asks, one eyebrow raised. Shaking your head you tell her you don't. "But what's a snow day without a buddy?" She frowns. "Especially one who stays in bed. All day?"

"I'd rather do that, believe me." You lean and kiss her, "But I have a mountain of editing to get through."

"You sure?"

"No." You admit, grinning. "But I do need to make rent."

"Spoilsport." She pouts and you kiss her again.

"Watch Audrey. Or catch up on all those shows you have Tivo'd."

"Ooh, 'Bones'." She nods.

"Exactly." You stand to leave but she stops you.

"You're coming back here for dinner right?"

"You have no food. We were going out and..." You trail off when you see her small smile. "You don't wanna leave because of the snow, do you?" She shakes her head and you sigh. "I'll bring stuff to make lasagna."

She pulls on your arm, bringing you closer to her and she kisses you. "You spoil me." She smiles.

"I know." You grin back at her. "I'll be back about six."

Throwing on your coat, you leave the apartment. The cold air hits you as soon as you step outside and you shove your hands in your pockets immediately finding the notebook. The small Moleskin Lydia had given you was slowly being filled with random, and out of sequence, events from your past. You always knew the story would be told, but you never thought a short red head from California who hated the snow would be the one who would inspire the writing process. Inspire and encourage, you think to yourself. Her handing you a blank notebook, telling you she like your last piece of writing was more encouragement than you'd received in a while.

And she didn't know.

And you don't know if she'll ever know. Afterall, you're still not a master at the verbal thing.

If the notebook ever gets finished, you think, maybe she'll figure it out.

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**Reviews are love. **

**And tell me what you think about snow? It sucks. I fell on the ice earlier, AND I've got the cold from being so cold! Grrr!**


	17. A Californian Halloweener in Philly

**Thank you for the reviews**

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**Chapter Seventeen - A Californian Halloweener in Philly**

"I'm thinking Magenta." She calls over her shoulder to you.

"What?" You glance up to see her pointing at a maid's outfit in the catalogue she's holding.

"Magenta, from Rocky Horror." She rolls her eyes at you. "I do have the hair." She is flipping through a catalogue of Halloween costumes for the past half hour trying to pick something out. "You could be Rocky Horror." She grins, as you walk over to her. "I think you'd look fabulous in gold hot pants." She smirks and winks up at you.

"I somehow doubt that, Murphy."

"Whatever spoilsport." She folds down the corner of the page and continues to flip through.

"Halloween's not for another three weeks. Aren't you being a little over organised."

"No way. You have to be prepared. I love Halloween. Dressing up, candy, cocktails with weird names. All good. You don't love Halloween?"

"Never done Halloween." You shrug, heading into the kitchen to pour a cup of coffee.

"But you grew up in New York. Isn't Halloween huge there?" She yells into you.

"I guess, just never appealed. I don't get the hype." You tell her when you return, handing her a cup of tea.

"Costumes, candy and cocktails. Thank you." She grins, setting the tea on the arm of the couch. "And of course the Great Pumpkin."

"The what?"

"The Great Pumpkin, Jess. It rises from a sincere pumpkin patch, and then delivers toys to good children in the world."

"Very funny." You roll your eyes, sitting down beside her. She puts her catalogue on her lap and wrinkles her forehead in confusion.

"Wait, you've never seen 'It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown'?"

"Oh, it's a thing? I thought you made it up."

"You thought I made the Great Pumpkin up? That's really sad." She bites down on her lip and you can tell she's holding back tears.

"Hey, what's wrong? Me not seeing some Charlie Brown special is nothing to get upset over." You rub circles on her knee, in an effort to soothe her.

"I know. I just... You don't do birthdays, Halloween has no appeal and I hate to think what happens when Christmas rolls around. I just forgot that not everyone had the same childhood as me. And I'm upset that you didn't get to dress up as Spiderman when you were eight and make yourself sick on candy corn and watch Charlie Brown."

"Gambit." You glance up at her and then take a deep breath. "I wanted to be Gambit when I was eight."

"You liked X-Men?" She laughed. "No way. I wanted to be Rogue."

"You liked X-Men?" You ask slightly skeptically.

"Yeah. I'm pretty sure there are pictures of me with a streak of talc in my hair around somewhere. And Anna Paquin ruined her."

"You seriously liked X-Men?"

"Loved it." She grinned. "Why Gambit?"

"He..." You pause not sure how to say it, or whether you should. That of your mom's decent boyfriends (who never stuck around any longer than the deadbeat ones) had bought you a few comics (as a way to relax from reading Dickens and Hardy) and you had felt a connection to Gambit, who lived on the streets, and kept secrets and pretended everything was okay. You take a deep breath and continue. "He...was, when I was eight, he was was cool." You shrug, unable to make her feel any worse about your childhood.

"Okay." She nods and you know she doesn't buy it. "I liked Rogue because she was a red head. I'm easily swayed that way."

"I've noticed." You nod and she leans over and kisses you.

"Hey," she whispers against your mouth, "Sid and Nancy."

"What?"

"For Halloween. We should go as Sid and Nancy. It requires a full on costume for me and not much of a stretch from you. Please? I'll buy you candy corn and dig out my copy of Charlie Brown?"

"Sure." You sigh.

She kisses you again. "Good. I gotta go. Yoga."

"Since when do you do yoga?"

"Since today." She shrugs. "See you later?"

You nod and she gives you a small wave before leaving her apartment. You know you'll have to tell her everything at some point. And you know you want to tell her. But today is not that day. But soon. And you know that telling her means a lot more than you're willing to admit.

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	18. This is America, Jess Mariano

**Thanks for the reviews!**

**In honour of Six Nations starting and Ireland winning their first game, thanks to Ronan O'Gara's GLORIOUS drop kick. Even if it was only *just* winning! We need to do better next time boys! If you don't watch rugby, you should. It's completely AWESOME!**

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**Chapter Eighteen - This is America, Jess Mariano**

"Come on! Don't miss, don't miss, don't mis-YES!"

You enter your aparment to find your girlfriend, kneeling on the couch, arms above her head in celebration, dancing in place.

"What the hell are you doing?" "Where's Mathew and Chris?" You smirk at her and she stops, mid celebration and grins at you.

"They're cooking, I was kicked out of kitchen when I dropped the stuffing mix. But, O'Gara just converted a try! We're up by seventeen points! 22-5!" She claps, turning her attention back to the TV screen.

You sit beside her and see she watching sport. "What are you watching?"

"The game. This is America, Jess. In America, we watch the game on Thanksgiving."

"I thought that was supposed to be football. That's not football."

"I know, it's rugby. I don't like football, but I love rugby! USA and Ireland test match. I was very confused about who to support, but in the end, Ireland won out."

"You watch rugby?"

She nods and smiles at you. "My dad played in college." She shrugs, we were brought up on it. And since Dad was born in Ireland, I'm obligated to support them. The fact I would run off with half the team has nothing to do with it."

"Right." You nod just as she starts yelling again.

"Come on, Bowe! Dodge him! Come on, yes, YES!" She claps and grins at you. "Exciting, right?"

"Yeah, sure." You grin. "What happened?"

"He scored a try." She explains, pointing to the screen, "and now they attempt a conversion, by kicking it over the crossbar, which they did! Twenty four points up!" She beams and you can't help but smile at her. Who would have thought this tiny red head would love rugby so much.

When Jamie arrives, the final whistle has just been blown and she's celebrating Ireland's 76-10 win over USA, and you find yourself celebrating with her.

"What's going on?" Jamie smirks at the two of you, Lydia dancing about the floor and you laughing at her, clapping at the win.

"Ireland won! Thanksgiving Rugby Champions!" She dances to her brother, reaching up to ruffle his hair.

"Irish rugby was on? I missed it? Damn." He sighes, sitting down to catch highlights.

"It was pretty good." You tell him, before standing and stretching. "I'm going to see if they need any help." You jerk your thumb towards the kitchen.

"I'll set the table." Lydia holds up turkey shaped napkin holders. "And can you get me a glass of wine too?" She smiles at you. "I'm not allowed back in the kitchen, remember?"

"Fine." You roll your eyes and push the door to the kitchen.

"Finally decided to help, huh?" Mathew smirks at you, placing a pie in the oven.

"Sorry, the game got a little exciting. Who knew she was so into it?"

"Yeah, it's surprising, but you get used to it." Chris laughed, handing you a whisk. "Here, stir the gravy please, dinner is almost ready."

* * *

"I'm thankful that Grandma gave us Thanksgiving off because she had more important charity functions to attend." Jamie smiled and Lydia lifted her glass in agreement. She suggested everyone say what they are thankful for in turn. Mathew had been thankful coffee, his Iphone and beautiful women. Chris for family and friends and then it was Lydia's turn.

"I guess I'm thankful for new shoes." She laughed. "And rugby and nail varnish. And for the wonderful people I get to share my life with." She smiled, taking your hand under the table. "You're up, Jess. What are you thankful for?"

Her, you think. The new things she teaches you (rugby, how to make the perfect omelet, how to be vulnerable), her laugh, they way she wrinkles her nose when she's thinking. "A good book." You say finally. "Arguments about good books." You nod at Chris and Mathew. "And," you squeeze her hand, still clasped in yours, "new beginnings."

"I like that." She nods. "To new beginnings." She holds her glass up and toasts, everyone at the table, following suit. "And now we eat." She grins, giving you a small wink when no one else was looking.

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**I have no idea if rugby would even be played at Thanksgiving. I have made it so. **

** Plus, USA have never won against Ireland in test match. It's cause we're awesome. It's true! Plus we're in the same group for the World Cup! I have major love for the Irish boys.  
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**Review?  
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	19. All About My Mother

**Disgustingly long wait, I know. I'm sorry. Seriously, very very sorry. I hope you enjoy this one.**

**Nothing is mine. Sad, sad times.  
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Chapter Nineteen - All About my Mother**

Pulling up outside Truncheon you check your watch. Just after midnight.

You cut the engine and head up to the apartment to find Mathew on the couch, beer in one hand and a copy of 'The Pearl' in the other.

"What are you doing up?" You set your bag down and he does the same with his book.

"Waiting for you actually." He tells you and you smile, but there's no hint of amusement on his face.

"What's going on?" You rid yourself of your scarf and coat and sit at the other end of the couch, on the arm.

He points to your room over his shoulder with his thumb. "Lyds is in your room."

"Okay." You nod and move to stand but he stops you.

"I'm not done. We went to a movie and when we got back this was on the machine." He reaches over and hits play on the answering machine.

_"Hey, Baby. I know I'm not supposed to call this number, but you're driving and that's irresponsible. And I just wanted to thank you for coming. Doula loved having you here. Call me soon. I love you."_

The line goes dead and the machine beeps. "Shit." You breath out and look up at Mathew. "It's not what-"

But he cuts you off. "You don't need to explain it to me. But you do need to go tell your girlfriend why some woman is calling you when you said you would be in New New to track down an author."

"Yeah." You nod and stand up, rubbing your hand over your jaw.

"And Jess? If she doesn't like your explanation I get to kill you."

"I know." You head to you room and knock once on the door before pushing it open. "Lyds?" She's sitting on your bed, legs crossed and a copy of 'Pride and Predjuce' on her lap. "Rereading Austen?"

"Nope." She shakes her head before looking up at you. "Thinking of ways to kill you."

"Oh."

"That's all you have to say?" Her eyes tear up and her voice gets higher. "You tell me you're going to New York and I can't go because it's a work thing. And I'm fine with that but then there's a message from some woman, an older woman, who's thanking you and saying she loves you and Doula loved having you there. So apart from thinking of ways to kill you, I'm thinking of what could be nicknamed Doula and the only thing I think of is her va-"

"My sister." You cut her off. "Doula is my sister."

"Your sister?"

"Yeah. And the woman on the phone was my mom." You sigh and sit on the edge of the bed beside her.

"Your mo-? But why the story? Why not just tell me you were going to see your mom and your sister. You have a sister?"

"Two, technically. Lily is my step sister in California."

"With your dad?"

"Yeah. And Doula is my half sister. She was one today."

Her eyebrows shoot upwards. "You have a baby sister? So why didn't you just tell that you were going to your kid sister's first birthday? Why the New York Author thing?"

"Because," You glance down and then back up at her. You knew you would have to explain everything to her at some point, but you thought you would get to pick the moment and not have it thrust upon you. "Because I could tell you not to come along on a business trip."

"Oh." Her eyes fall and she lets out a shaky sigh. "Oh, right. Well, I should go." She stands and looks about for her shoes.

"Lyds, it's after midnight."

"Then I'll crash with Math." She pulls on one of her boots.

"Lydia..." You reach for her hand but she pulls away.

"Jess, No! You basically just told me that you didn't want me meeting your family. I can't be here."

"Please, let me explain." You step in front of her and block her path to the door.

"Jess." She sighs and stares at your chest and refuses to look at you. Holding on to her elbows, you bend your knees to reach her eye level.

"I didn't want them meeting you." You say quietly and she look up at you.

"That makes no sense."

"My mom doesn't deserve to meet you. Not yet." You tell her, leading her to the bed and kicking of her one boot, she resumes her previous seating position.

"What?"

Sitting beside her, you stare at the opposite wall and take a deep breath. "If you had of come with me, you would have met a Liz who not only remembered her kid's birthday but threw a massive party and put glitter on her face and wore fairy wings and didn't get trashed. And you would have loved her. And then, when I did tell you about my childhood, it would feel like I couldn't. Because you would know her. And-"

She places her hand on you cheek and cuts you off. "So, the reason you don't like birthdays is because...?"

"They weren't really remembered when I was growing up." You nod, finally looking at her.

She lies down on her side and pulls you down to face her. "Tell me." She whispers.

"Tell you what?"

"Everything."

So you do. "Liz was screwed up." You shrug. "Jimmy left right after I was born, and she was eighteen. She was too stubborn to go home, but she was clueless. An endless cycle of men and jobs and it was hard living with her. She drank and got high and I saw it all. That's why I started reading. I could escape. Birthdays weren't usually remembered and when they were it was an excuse for her to get high. Our only Christmas tradition was Liz getting drunk and crying. I was a really quiet kid, I think Liz forgot I was there half the time. And then high school happened."

"High school?"

"Yeah, I became friends with some older guys, started cutting class, smoking, drinking staying out all night and Liz wasn't happy. She was getting phone calls from school and that interrupted whatever the hell she was more interested in doing at the time. And then right before junior year some of the guys decided it was a good idea to rob a seven-eleven with a gun."

"Oh my-" She breathes out and you nod in reply.

"Yeah, exactly. They weren't really MENSA material and they got caught. Liz's caught wind of it and decided that I has something to do with it and shipped me off to Connecticut because she couldn't handle me anymore."

"What? She just got rid of you?"

"Yip. She didn't even listen long enough for me to explain where I actually was."

"Which was?"

"A bookstore. Red's. I'd been going the first Sunday of every month since I was twelve. I was discussing Faulkner with Red when I was supposedly stealing beer from a store twenty five blocks away."

Lydia leans forward and places a kiss on you nose. "Thank you." She whispers. "Thank you for telling me. And lying so you didn't have to tell me. I guess your childhood was worse than a few missed Charlie Brown specials, huh?"

"It wasn't all bad. Liz took me to feed the ducks once." You shrug one shoulder and she laughs.

"You don't hate her?"

"No." You shake your head. "She was young, and we've all screwed up when we were young. And, I guess, in the long run, sending me off to live with my uncle was the best thing Liz ever did."

"Listen, I just want you to know, I won't meet your family until you want it to happen. I won't even ask about it. You have to feel comfortable with, okay?"

"Yeah, thanks." You smile and then tell her, "Luke."

"Look where?" She glances over her shoulder, "Is there a spider?"

"No," You laugh, "Luke. My uncle Luke. I want you to meet him. And him to meet you. And soon."

"Really?" She asks and you nod, making her smile. "I'd like that. And I'll be on my best behaviour for Luke. The uncle the man I'm..."

She trials off and you finish her sentence, "sleeping with?" You smirk and she shakes her head.

"No. I was gonna say the man I'm falling in love with." She gives you a small smile. "It's not there yet, but soon."

You blink a few times, trying to register what she just said. She's falling in love with you. You open your mouth to reply, but the words stick in your throat and you know that the last time you said this (well not _this_, because you're not there yet either), you left straight after. Got in your car and drove away. There is no exit route planned. Just you, Lydia and "Me too."

Because you're falling for her too.

And the smile that crosses her face and the kiss she presses your mouth mean that telling her as much was completely worth it.

* * *

**Review? :)**


	20. Christmas in California

**Nothing is mine. And I'm sorry. Really. I've had such a block over this chapter. I must have deleted whatever I wrote about twenty times. I'm still not completely happy with this, but it doesn't make me want to scream. lol  
**

**And on that note... Enjoy!  
**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty - Christmas in California**

"Lyds?" You call out as you open the door to the apartment. "You he..." You trail off as you come face to face with-

"Surprise!" She yells, a large grin across her face.

"Did an elf throw up in here?" You ask, taking in the masses of Christmas decorations.

Her face drops as she glances about the room. "No. I just wanted to give the place some cheer. Especially since I have been called out west for the holidays."

"Right. Your grandma." You nod and she shrugs.

"Yeah, we couldn't have hoped she let me off both Thanksgiving and Christmas. I leave on Wednesday afternoon, right after school finishes. You sure you don't want to come with?" She bats her eyelashes up at you.

"Yeah." You grin, looking at the heavily decorated tree in the corner of the room. "So, we have four days of Christmas cheer?"

"Yip." She nods, picking up her tea and taking a sip. "And I'm in California for a week. I'll be back on the 28th."

"At least that's something." You wink at her, heading to the kitchen. "What do you want for dinner?"

* * *

She's been gone for a day when your phone rings and her name is on the display. "What happened to 'I'll call you tomorrow'? " you grin as you answer the call.

She gasps out a sob in reply.

"Lyds, what's wrong?"

"She's sick." She sobs. "Really sick. I can't believe she never said anything."

"Your grandmother's sick?"

"Yeah. Lymphoma. She's in a hospice. The doctor just told me that she has until the end of the month. If even that." You hear her take a deep breath before she continues. "I'm sorry, I should go. I'll call you later."

"Lydia!" You yell to get her attention and stop her from hanging up. "Are you okay?"

"I dunno." She sniffs. "I feel...numb. Listen the doctor's back. I have to go." She clicks the phone off and you're left standing in shock.

"You okay?" Mathew asks, coming from the kitchen.

"I have to book a flight to California."

"What?"

* * *

"Lydia!"

She whirls around, a look of confusion on her face. "What are you doing here?" She wraps her arms around your neck and presses a kiss to your cheek.

"I'm here for you." You shrug, but in all honesty, between this moment and her phone-call are a blur. You just knew you had to get to her.

"You're amazing. You know that?" She smiles up at you. "I was just bringing Grandma some tea. You wanna meet her?"

You hesitate and she laughs. "I know what Mathew has probably told you about her when we were kids. And it's true. But she's kinda mellowed. Being ill has made her nice."

You nod and follow her into a room at the end of the hall. "Grandma, this is Jess. My boyfriend. Jess, this is my grandma." She smiles at you and you extend your hand to Mrs Montgomery, who sitting by the window. She is tall and you can tell, that like her granddaughter, she is a woman to be reckoned with.

"I've heard a lot about you young man." She nods and she shakes your hand. "Now, Lydia, do you not have a song to be practicing?"

"I know it." Lydia rolls her eyes. "I was actually just about to head back to the house and get some dinner. Plus Nurse Amy was kicking me out. Apparently, you need a nap." She grins at her grandmother.

"Odious woman." Mrs Montgomery rolls her eyes.

"Yes, well, you need your rest." Lydia leans over and kisses her on the head. "I'll see you tomorrow for caroling."

As Lydia takes your hand you nod to her grandmother, who gives you a small wave. "She used to look taller." Lydia sighs, resting her head on your shoulder as you make your way out of the building.

* * *

"Jamie, have you seen Lyds?" You ask the eighteen year old, after wandering around the house your girlfriend spend her high school years in. Looking up from his book, Jamie tell you she went for a shower and you make your way up stairs.

Her bathroom is empty, but the window is opened and you see a curl of smoke drift past in the wind and you find her on the balcony, on the ground, knees against chest, cigarette in hand.

"Hey." She nods but doesn't look at you.

"Lyd-" You start but she cuts you off.

"I'm fine Jess." She sighs. "She's dying and she didn't say anything. Why wouldn't she say..." She trails off, shaking her head and takes a drag of her cigarette. "This is completely so something she would do. I was never good enough, you know? Friends with the wrong people, dating much too young, going to the wrong college. And then I went to the right college, I was doing the wrong major. I could never win. She was so dead set against me moving to Philadelphia after graduation, and suddenly she buys me an apartment. And Jamie going to Yale is the best thing in world. I should have known something was up! I should have pressed her, made her tell me what was going on. But I was just too happy, I let it go."

You reach over and take her hand. "This isn't your fault."

"I know. But, I'm just so mad at her. Why wouldn't she tell us. Why would she spring this on us and then expect me to get up and sing on Christmas Eve. Typical!"

"Yeah, why do you have to sing?"

"It's a volunteer thing. People come and sing at Christmas for the patients. Every patient picks their favourite Christmas song and someone sings it for them. I used to do it in school." She shrugs. "But I'm so pissed at her. She just expects me to get up there and sing because someone dropped out. No thought that I might not want to do it."

"Why did you say yes then?"

"I may be mad at her, but I'm not heartless Jess. You don't tell a dying woman no, no matter how annoyed you are with her."

"Okay." You nod and stand up, reaching for her hand. "You should get some sleep." She climbs back in through the window and lies on her bed, gesturing with her head for you to lie beside her. You take her hand and bringing to your face, kiss it.

You lie beside each other, but sleep evades you both. You know she's awake. Her breathing never evens out, she remains on her back instead of rolling onto her side and every so often she squeezes your hand. You can't think what to say to her, so you stay silent and squeeze her hand back.

* * *

"Jess? Could you get me a glass of water?"

You glance over at Lydia's grandmother, in a wheelchair, blanket about her, waiting for Lydia to sing. "Sure." You nod and leave to get her the drink.

"Mrs Montgomery?" You hand her the water when you return.

"Thank you. And, please, call me Katharine." She smiles as you sit back down and Lydia waves to you from her spot beside Jamie (who has been roped into playing piano for the singers).

"So, Lydia tells me that you are a writer." You glance to your left and nod you head once.

"Just the one, a short novel." You tell her. And then, "I'm working on something else." Where had that come from? No one, not Mathew, not Chris and not Lydia knew about your newest project. "But I dunno what it is yet. It might be nothing." You try to cover your tracks. But you know she doesn't really buy it from the way her eyes flash and her small smile. Her attention is then diverted to the stage and you see Lydia is standing there, beaming down at you.

As she starts to sing 'Oh Holy Night', a silence descends on the room and you wonder if it always happens when she sings.

"She's wonderful, isn't she?" You hear whispered in your ear. Looking over, you see Katharine smiling up at Lydia. "Her singing this is my favourite Christmas song."

"No one dropped out did they?"

She shakes her head. "No. But you can't tell her."

"Why?"

She sighs and stares at you for a beat. "I have never approved of my granddaughter's life. I always expected her to be someone else. I expected her to follow the path her mother never did. Become a doctor, not marry one."

"Lydia freaks out if she get a paper cut." You laugh and she simply nods.

"Yes, she is a tad dramatic, but she always has been. Lydia is a remarkable young woman. Thoroughly independent and I think I've always," she pauses and sighs a little before continuing, "I've always been envious of that."

"Envious?"

"Yes." She nods, smiling at you. It's a sad smile, you note, as her eyes turn back towards Lydia. "She always did exactly as she pleased. When she went to Stanford instead of Penn, I took it as a small victory, but I knew she was only staying for James. I never had the opportunity to do whatever I wanted. Her mother tried it, but when she got married, she settled down, started doing charity work. Lydia always says exactly what she means and does exactly what she pleases and she makes no apologies for who she is. I admire that about her. I think she must be very brave."

"Why don't you tell her all this?" You ask, but she shakes her head.

"I have been hard on her. I realise that was wrong. But I have no right to ask for forgiveness, simply because I am dying. And because I don't deserve her forgiveness."

"Everyone deserves forgiveness."

"Not everyone." She shakes her head. "Her knowing this wouldn't change her feelings. I know my granddaughter. She loves me. I know that. But she resents me for trying to control her. Telling her how I feel, would only change the source of her resentment. Not make it disappear. She would resent that I didn't tell her sooner. Telling her would only ease my mind. Something I do not deserve."

You nod slowly, and gaze back up at Lydia, still singing, a small smile on her face.

"Jess, promise me one thing." You look back at Katharine and she reaches forward and holds on to your arm. "Look after her. She has always taken care of everyone else. I just want to know that she is taken care of."

"Of course, but Lydia has a lot of people looking out for her. Jamie, Mathew and Chris."

"I know." She smiles. "James has always been protective of his sister. And Mathew and Christopher have been wonderful. I just meant someone who was with her. Someone who loves her."

You feel you jaw drop and you quickly try to recover. "Lov- it's not…I'm not…"

"Oh, my mistake, then." She nods, a glint in her eye that you recognize from Lydia.

"It's not-" You start but are interrupted by the sound of clapping. Lydia has finished her song and is giving a small cursty, her face flushed with pleasure. She turns to leave, but is joined by a children's choir, who ask her to sing with them. She laughs and takes a santa hat, pulling it on and joining them singing 'Jingle Bells'.

"I'd like to go back to my room." You hear Katharine tell a nurse. "I feel a little tired."

You watch Lydia, and how her face drops as she watches her grandmother leave. You catch her eye and she gives you a bright smile as she puts her arm about the shoulder of the girl standing next to her.

As the song finishes, she leaves the stage and joins you. "You were good." You nudge her with your elbow.

"Thanks." She laughs, but you note there's no humour in it. "At least someone enjoyed it." She stares down the hall towards her grandmother's room.

"She did enjoy it." You wrap an arm about her waist.

"She talked the whole time."

"Not the whole time..." You try to appease her.

"Save it Jess. I should be glad she even sat through the whole song."

"Lydia." You don't know what to say to her, knowing you can't tell her anything about how her grandmother really feels. But she shakes her head, gives you a small smile and takes you hand.

"Let's just watch the end of the concert and then we'll go do some proper Christmas Eve activities."

"Like?"

She grins and sits down on the window ledge behind her. "Watching Holiday movies and decorating cookies."

You kiss her forehead and settle in beside her. "Sounds good."

* * *

Christmas Eve and Christmas Day pass without incident. The days are quiet and reserved, and you know from how her apartment was decorated this wasn't how Christmas was usually spent for the Murphys.

Her grandmother passes on December twenty seventh, but she doesn't cry, she simply springs into action. The funeral is large; she tells you a lot of people will be there, to pay their respects. Lydia's voice wavers only slightly as she gives her eulogy, but her hand grips yours as the casket is lowered.

You watch as she thanked people for coming and as she makes sure Jamie has eaten. She introduces you to Seth's parents and you notice her eyes fill with tears before she blinks them back.

"Maybe you should take a break. Eat something?" You whisper to her, but she shakes her head.

"I will, but when everyone goes."

They go later that evening and you find her in the back garden, staring up at dusky sky. "Did you eat?"

"Not hungry." She shakes her head and sit beside her.

"Bullshit. You haven't eaten all day."

"I'm just tired." She looks at you and gives you a small smile. "Where's Jamie?"

"He said he as heading out with some friends, but he said he wouldn't be late."

"Good, he should have some normalcy this Christmas. We have the meeting with the lawyers tomorrow, for the reading of the will, then Jamie is getting on a plane back East, as was originally planned so he can make his New Year Eve Party at School."

"What about you?"

"I spoke to Headmaster Green. I have until January 18th before I start back. But have to sort everything here out. Decide what's being kept, what can be sold in the Estate Sale, look for a new house."

You raise an eyebrow in interest. "A new house?"

"Yeah, I talked to Jamie earlier and we decided to sell this house. But buy a smaller house. Keep our stuff there, and then we'll always have somewhere to stay if we need to come back."

"Sounds like you have everything under control."

"You saw my lists." She scoffs. "I'm sorry I've been a bit of nutcase these last two days."

"It's justified, don't sweat it. So you have time to sort everything out, right? I mean, you could take a few days break from estate sales over the New Year?"

"Yeah, I guess, why?"

"I was thinking we take the train down to Venice. Spend New Years with my dad. Come back up here January 2nd?"

"Your dad?"

"And Sasha and Lily." You nod.

Lydia smiles and leans over, pressing a kiss to your lips. "That sounds perfect. You sure I can meet your dad?"

"Yeah, I'm sure." You laugh and she does the same. It's only then you realise how much you'd missed the sound.

* * *

You spot Jimmy hanging lights around a tree in the front yard as you walk towards the house. The station is a ten minute walk away from Jimmy and Sasha's and the train had arrived early.

Jimmy looks up and spots you and a grin break across his face. "I was coming to meet you off the train!" He laughs as you reach him, and he pulls you into a hug.

"It got in early." You shrug and you notice Jimmy smiling at Lydia behind you. "Oh, right. Lydia, this is Jimmy, my dad. Dad, Lydia." You introduce the two and Jimmy awkwardly tries to shake her hand, before changing his mind and hugging her too.

"It's good to meet you. And I'm sorry about your grandmother."

"Thanks." She smiles, and then gives you both the once over. "God, you two are like the same person."

"I know." You nod. "I can't catch a break."

"Hey!" Jimmy elbows you in ribs.

"Jess!" You glance over Jimmy's shoulder and see Lily running towards you, her hair flying out behind her and Sasha closely following. "When did you get here?" the twelve year old asks as she throws her arms about your waist.

"About two minutes ago." You laugh, before waving to Sasha. "Hey."

"Hey yourself kid. You must be Lydia. It's nice to meet you." She smiles at Lydia, who nods back.

"You're Lydia?" Lily disentangles herself and looks up. ""You're really pretty."

"Thank you." Lydia smiles. "So are you."

"Are you guys hungry? I've made a ton of food." Sasha takes Lily by the shoulders and they both start to walk back towards the house.

"I could eat." You start to walk inside, along side Jimmy and then turn back to Lydia. She hasn't moved and you call to her.

She shakes her head and steps backwards. "I'm not very hungry. I'm just gonna go for a walk. I'll see you guys later." She turns and leaves, heading towards to the boardwalk.

"I should go after her." You hand Jimmy your bag but Sasha stops you.

"Give her a few minutes, huh?"

* * *

You give her ten minutes, before setting out after her. You find a quarter of an hour later, on the beach, sitting in the sand staring up at a beach house.

"There you are."

She looks up at you and sighs. "Sorry, that was so rude. I just had to clear my head."

You take a seat beside her and she puts her head on your shoulder. "They understand. You've been through a lot the past week."

"Still, I shouldn't have just bolted. But I did find this." She points up to the house. "It's for sale. I'm gonna call Jamie tomorrow, but I think this might be the house we buy."

"What?"

"Jamie loves it here." She shrugs. "He's came here every summer since he was thirteen. Plus, we'll get to come and visit your family. Who, by the way, seem awesome. And Lily seems like a cool kid."

"She is." You nod. "I think you two will be very good friends."

"We should be getting back." She moves to stand, but you hold on to her.

"We can sit for a while longer." You grin, leaning in to kiss her.

"Hey," She pulls back, "I realised you flew here."

"Yeah."You nod, slowly.

"But, you got on a plane. You'd never flown anywhere before. You said it scared you."

"It did. Does. I'm dreading getting back on the plane to go home." You admit to her.

"So why did come?"

"You were upset." You shrug. You can't remember anything between her phone call and landing in California. Getting to her had gotten you through the fear.

"That maybe the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me." She kisses you and wraps her arms about your neck.

The only thing you can think of to say in reply is "You're welcome", but as it leaves your mouth, it sounds ridiculous to you ears. But she smiles at you and kisses you again, so maybe she thought it was an appropriate response.

She places her head back on your shoulder and you run your thumb along her hand. "I'm gonna miss her." Her voice breaks the silence. "My grandma." She elaborates. "I now she was mean and judgemental. But her judging me was a constant that I could depend on."

"She wasn't that bad." You defend.

"I know." She agrees. "Except, she was, but I loved that old broad anyway." She sighs and wrinkles her nose, before standing up and offering you her hand. "Thank you for everything this week, Jess. You've been amazing."

"You're welcome." You repeat and then tell her it's what you're there for.

But that's not all you want to tell her. You realise in that moment you want you add three little words. Words you've only uttered once before. And you want to curse her grandmother for being right.

She's walking ahead of you, making her way back towards the house. Now's not the right time for three little words and proving Katharine Montgomery right.

But soon, you know, it will be.

* * *

**Review, let me know what you think? I found this damn chapter so hard to write.**

**Or, you know, shout at me for being completely rubbish at updating.  
**


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